Stolen Paradise
by tragicallycomedic
Summary: Everyone she knew had either died, or left her. That didn't always mean they left by choice. In a world where loss is the way of life, how far will Ellie go to hold on to those that matter most? [not JoelxEllie]
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:**

Hi all, welcome to my first story! Thank you for taking the time to read what I've tried my best to create! I recently played TLOU again, and especially with that half-leak of a possible sequel that's been floating around I figured I'd finally try my hand at writing something of my own. So, just to set the stage and make everything easy to follow I'm picking up, initially, 2 years after the first game ended. Don't worry though, I'll be making sure to fill you in on what happened between the game's end and when my story starts. Beyond that I'm writing with the intent that it will stay true to all the character development the DLC had, but I'm going to pretend the "one night live" performance was never created since I honestly don't think that's how it would play out at all. Anyways, this is the first creative thing I've written since well…years I think, so please let me know what you think!

Of course the necessary disclaimer: The characters and such along with the last of us are property of naughty dog/Sony.

* * *

 _2036 – Jackson, Wyoming_

The sun burned towards its zenith in the sky, shafts of brilliant light slicing through the forest's thick canopy like knives. Hidden birds flirted from tree to tree, their chirps echoing across the branches. Two figures were surrounded by a flurry of life. One - a man - stalked amongst the brush, and though his shoulders were beginning to bend from age and toil his steps were silent and driven. The other turned her gaze in a panorama, a faintly mirthful smile splayed upon her lips. The light bounced off her auburn hair, and out of pure reflex she batted a stubborn strand out of her eyes. Routine, even an annoying one such as that, brought a small bit of comfort in a ruined world.

"Hurry up and keep low. You're going to scare away anything worth eating." The first figure's voice was gruff from years of hardship, the words drawling out from his mouth like a mudslide. It was not a voice to easily disagree with.

"Animals – they can smell better than we do, right?" The question was unexpected, the girl's words coated in the twinge of someone constantly in on a private joke, and caused the man to stop his careful advance. Not seeing the verbal trap laid for him he looked back to the young girl with one eyebrow raised in question, and gave a silent nod. She clicked her teeth together and bobbed her head up and down before speaking, mouthing a silent _ah_.

"I thought so. Well, see I figured if anything they'd smell you before they saw me." To illustrate the point the girl waved a hand in front of her face, curling her nose up in a mockery of disgust. Her smile widened, though she did crouch down to his level. She could never actually do what he said without giving him hell for it. If he was forced to admit it he wouldn't want it any other way.

A deep sigh escaped his lips, and he pointed to the ground next to him.

"Ellie, get over here. I found tracks."

She crawled over to him, nestling into the shade of a huge oak. It stretched into the sky; the trunk was massive enough that the beginnings of roots looked like overturned trees themselves, burrowing deep into the ground. With a shallow yawn she set her rifle against the bark, shaking out her muscles to rearrange the weathered pack perched high on her shoulders.

"Whad'ya got?"

It was the man's turn to grin, which on a good day was a dagger thin compression of his lips, and pointed down to her shoes. She dropped her gaze and her nose curled up again, this time in genuine disgust.

"Oh fuck, Joel! That's shit, not prints." She shuffled away, scrapping the edges of her shoes against a root. "Not cool." Foul language escaped her mouth with every breath.

"Yeah it is. Fresh too. Something's close. Now how about you keep it down, darlin'?" Though there was habitually urgency in his voice, there wasn't a drop of annoyance.

Something between a gurgle and a growl sounded in his young companion's throat and she gave a quick nod, cleaning the last of the droppings off her shoes before returning to his side, giving the 'prints' a wide berth.

"All right, all right. What's the plan?"

In response he pointed slightly off to his right, letting her gaze follow to where the underbrush thickened and tangled amongst the trees.

"You head that way. Keep your eyes open and your head down. I'll head off to the left. Reckon between us we'll catch a decent dinner." He paused to give the forest another sweep of his gaze. "Now don't go any further than you could hear a gunshot; these woods are saf _er_ , not safe. A few people have gone missing in these parts lately. Got it?"

Ellie rocked back on her heels, hefting the rifle in her hands and checking the action. Giving it a satisfied pat she cradled it on her shoulder, holding it like she was a colonial soldier.

"Got it."

She made to leave, cinching her pack tight once more, but was tugged back as she stood. Joel's hand had caught her, wrapping itself around her bitten wrist.

"Ellie." His voice was quieter than usual, taking on a timber that signaled there was more flickering through his mind than he would have time or the ability to say.

Their gazes met and his face seemed to pinch together, with thoughts echoing in his mind like distant thunder. She knew him well enough, and an entire conversation played out in an instant. A slight dilation of his pupils spoke volumes, the way his teeth bit down on just the slightest part of his lip articulating things better than his words probably ever could. Her smile stretched wider and she beamed down at him, slowly pulling away, letting his hand slide down her wrist till his fingers wrapped around hers.

"I'll be fine, Joel. I've never let you down, have I?"

She gave a gentle flex of her hand; the larger man's paw easily enveloping her slim fingers. He squeezed back and she pulled away, sliding around the ancient tree trunk and jogging deeper into the forest. He watched Ellie until the dense green hid her from view, before slipping out of the shade and setting off on his own path. His mind wandered back to all the times he had almost lost her, one in particular slipping to the forefront. Without thought his fingers brushed against his worn and tattered watch, and he let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding as he fell deep into the past.

"Never have, baby-girl. Never will."

* * *

 _Fall 2034 – Jackson, Wyoming_

"I want you to have this."

Without another word from Joel the door to her room closed, and she drowned in her thoughts. Ellie dropped her gaze down to the guitar now cradled in her arms. It was scuffed and worn, with bits of wood chipped off its face. Without thought her fingers curled and stretched, mimicking the positions Joel's fingers had occupied. When he had held it the guitar seemed ready to spring into music at any moment. It felt leaden and dead to her, a stiff corpse far beyond hope. Every edge seemed razor sharp, and a great weariness seized her limbs. Moonlight streamed in through an open window, bathing the room in pale, slivered light. It crawled up her limbs, bumping across the raw scar on her forearm like water flooding a dry streambed. Where the light failed to reach shadows seemed to dance and whisper.

It would be worse this time, and with a sickening realization Ellie knew she would not be strong enough to hold it back anymore. It had been only two weeks since they arrived in Jackson, and already she was being reduced to a nervous wreck. A person could only pretend for so long, and like a cup a guilty conscious could only hold so much before it flooded over. In the darkness she saw the dead. So many faces. Too many faces. Tess, Sam, Henry, and so many others all frozen in their last moments of existence. She shuddered as the specters leered at her, closing her eyes in a vain attempt to block out the sights, her arms and legs twitching in sympathy to the fear and stress coursing through her.

"I'm sorry." It was part plea, part appeasement. It was all she could muster the courage to say. It fell on deaf ears. The silence was damning.

The faces only grinned, yellowed teeth blending with each other, eyes coalescing, nightmares locking and molding into one vague shimmer of grief. It turned and walked through the door, and she was compelled to follow. Numbness took her limbs as she trailed the mirage down the hallway, each of its footprints seeming to be a quiet scream of pain in her ears, swirling around like water in a drain. The hall writhed in time with her heartbeat, and she was only faintly aware that she still dragged the guitar in one hand. Without pause the dead marched through a closed door, and she reached out a trembling hand to turn the cold knob.

Tunnel vision consumed her as the door swung open, her breath coming in short hiccups. The world seemed to both slow down and speed up as Joel turned to look at her.

"Ellie?" His voice betrayed his confusion. She could barely hear it over the blood rushing in her ears. His gaze was paralyzing, lingering first on the guitar clutched in one trembling hand, then on her emerald eyes. They were staring at him - _through_ him, piercing his body like a lance. A single word slipped from her lips, deafening despite how quiet it was spoken.

"Liar."

Joel's blood turned to ice, and it took every bit of his strength to remain standing. Despite the inevitability of the situation there wasn't a damn thing that could have prepared him for this. He was a man caught in a riptide, being dragged deep out to sea. Still she stared through him. He struggled to find his voice. The only words he could find seemed far too insignificant.

"It's not your fault." He didn't know what she would do, but the last thing he expected was for her to laugh. It was a quick bark, half tearing paper, half wounded animal. She swayed violently as the noise faded, with only her empty gaze preventing Joel from rushing to her side. She gestured around her, the guitar bumping against her leg.

"Nothing. It was all for nothing. Every death I caused, every bit of pain that was my fault. This _act_ I've kept up." Thin arms lifted, crucifying her in the dead air. "All that sacrifice. For nothing." Ellie's voice was distant and her arms dropped, the instrument scrapping across the wooden floor. Joel swallowed hard, the floorboards creaking in protest as he took a tentative step towards her.

"It wasn't for nothing. It got us here - got you here, away from everything. It got you safe."

"It _broke_ me. _You_ broke me." The murmured accusation cut deep, and a knot tight enough to make him wince formed in his stomach. He had hoped, hell he had even prayed, that this day would never come.

"Ellie I will fix you. I will fix you baby-girl, I swear." His words bubbled out like a geyser, uncharacteristic desperation slipping between each syllable. As he took a few more faltering steps towards her his voice deserted him, coming back as nothing more than a whisper. "You have to believe me." The guitar slipped from her fingers, toppling to the floor. The girl followed an instant later, her knees giving out as she slid down a wall. A glimmering tear began to crest down a freckled cheek. Her hands opened and closed, grasping at nothing. Still her words sounded like nothing more than a faint echo.

"Believe…you? How can I believe you? After what you said, what you promised. How you lied. It was my turn to lose my mind. And I think I did. You just…just forced me to stick around and watch it." Her gaze had fallen down, focusing squarely on the floor.

"And what would you have wanted then?" He braced himself for the answer, dropping down in front of her and taking her by the shoulders. He could feel her chest heaving and bucking, her heart racing faster than he had ever felt it. Her eyes flickered back and forth between floorboards before snapping up to lock on his.

"To…die? To die. For it to at least mean something - to at least help. To do what I was meant to do. To be the cure." The words were weak. The lack of conviction in her voice surprised some tiny part of her. In that hour of absolutes she had expected more. Her mind stuttered. If it could be undone, if time could be wound back, she would do it. She should have been the cure. If that meant dying, then she should have died. She deserved to die. _Right?_ It terrified her that some corner of her mind was desperately searching to find reasons to live now, and her certainty began to waver. His reply was broken, the words falling out halted and jumbled. Terror was quickly consuming him.

"All that would have meant was this world got one more body. Marlene thought she knew the meaning of sacrifice. Thought breaking a promise to keep you safe made her a martyr. It only made her a monster. This world's got enough corpses. I couldn't let you become one. You would have done the same for me. I know you would have."

The _selfishness_ was suffocating. His last sentence, however, felt like a hot coal forcing its way down her throat. He wasn't wrong.

"Ellie I had to do bad things - awful things. I won't hide that anymore. Not from you. But I remember back when a girl shot me a look that could kill - not from anger, but from disappointment." He dropped his eyes to the ground while his grip on her shoulders tightened. The ghost of a smile crossed his lips, there and gone in an instant. "And she told me that she was," he searched for the right word, his mouth refusing to fully shut, "she was… _safe_. She was safe with me, and would be scared without me. And I reckon that despite everything, even though it took me too damn long to admit it, I felt the same way. Still do. You can hate me if you need to. You can never speak to me again if that's what it takes. But I will always be there for you. I will never let the world hurt you."

His words stirred something in her, and though still nothing more than whispers, when she spoke again her words were tinged with the stubbornness that was patently _Ellie_. If he was going to get a shred of forgiveness, if she was going to get a shred of forgiveness, he was going to have to earn them every damn bit of it.

"Right now the only thing hurting me is you. With your lie…and with your fucking fingernails digging into me."

He let go immediately, taking her head in his hands like he had in a burnt out alpine restaurant so far away. She looked so frail in the waning moonlight. She was a half broken porcelain doll, and a good bit of that damage was his doing.

"Convince me, Joel." For the second time tonight her actions blindsided him. "Convince me that what you did was worth it. Convince me that despite what I have," her eyes fell to her arm, "what I could give, the people I _know_ you killed to get me here, that this is for the best. And don't you fucking dare just tell me it's because you need me."

Silence reigned for several minutes, with her eyes gazing deep into him. It was now or never.

"Why did you want to die? To be the cure? To help people?" She nodded in his hands and he brushed a thumb up her cheek, wiping away the streak of moisture her tear had created. She winced at the movement. "Alright. Ellie, I've seen the Fireflies blow up buildings full'a bystanders just to get one person. I've seen the woman who considered herself a second mother to you order your death without even asking you. Without even apologizing to you. Now even if they ripped out your brain and found the answers to every single little problem this world's ever had, even if they find a damn cure from it all, want to know what something like that would be in the hands of people like them? It would be a weapon."

The shattered youth blinked and seemed to recoil at his words.

"People like them – the Fireflies. They ain't honest. They'll run around acting like champions of the people, like heroes, but it's all a lie. There ain't any heroes anymore. They'd just as soon see themselves in control. You were a hell of a pocket ace to them baby-girl. And they'd have tried to kill and kill with the secrets locked inside that head of yours. You say Tess, Sam - all them faces - all those deaths, are on you? Then hell Ellie, think what would happen if they got a cure…"

His voice trailed off, and his fingers uncurled from around her face. Slowly her hands snaked up, pawing at her eyes and scratching their way up into her hair as her frayed mind sifted through what he had said like grains of sand.

"How do I know you're telling the truth? That _you_ believe what you're saying? Your promises - they're not worth much right now, you know." Inside that statement was a desperate plea. _Make it worth something, Joel. Make me believe you._ He took a deep breath and held it for as long as he could. With a sharp exhale he reached for his wrist, unclasped the watch he hadn't removed in years, and forced it into her hands. Without looking at her he curled her fingers over the warm leather and ruined watch face, before standing up and striding to the window, gazing out on the sleeping town. His head spun and the skin around his wrist itched. At first he spoke to no one in particular.

"Tess said her and I were shitty people. Maybe she was right. Hell, I know she was right." His voice dropped lower, on the verge of inaudible. "I'll change that, for you. I'll be what you deserve." He pressed his head against the cool windowpane, letting the chill stab into his forehead. "If I ever lie to you, if you ever even think I've lied to you from now on, you destroy that watch. And if you ever trust me again, you give it back."

Heavy eyes screwed shut, and he felt older than he ever had before. Every bone in his body, every muscle and joint seemed to ache, the toll of years of survival suddenly forcing themselves down upon him. He had been so damn tired of that lie. Now that it was out he didn't know how to react. Seconds ticked by into minutes, and he half expected to hear the sounds of crushed metal behind him. Instead he felt a finger tap his shoulder. He turned to see Ellie standing in front of him, legs still weak, swaying as if in a breeze. The watch was clasped in one hand, the other balling and un-balling into a fist. Her eyes, however, seemed to gleam in the light. She opened her mouth, then closed it, shaking her head, ponytail bobbing across her shoulders in response. He never saw the fist coming. It slammed into his collar bone and bounced up, catching him across the nose. Tears welled in his eyes and he could feel blood drip down his beard. He shot an arm out to steady himself and felt Ellie latch onto it, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

"Oh fuck," she breathed, "I was aiming for your shoulder."

Despite everything that had happened his stomach convulsed, his lungs seized up, and he began to laugh. It got louder and louder, all the tension bleeding out with each heave of his shoulders, and he allowed himself to slide down the wall into a sitting position. She towered over him, eyes misty, still holding his arm up, her face half exhaustion and half concern. His tongue slid across his lips, tasting copper.

"Now I deserved that. I forgot how hard you can hit, kid."

He pulled his arm in, dragging her down next to him. From out of the corner of his eye he could see her staring down at the watch in her hand. Her lips moved, silently mouthing words. " _Fuck it."_ With exaggerated slowness she placed the watch on his leg, smoothing the leather bands out against his worn jeans. Her hand trembled as she pulled it back, resting it palm up in her lap, her other hand tracing its fingers across the grooves and calluses.

"I don't feel like much of a kid anymore."

"Hell maybe you're not. You sure as shit like to act like one sometimes."

She gave him a sideways look, rolling her eyes as she refocused in front of her, a fatigued chuckle rocking her shoulders.

"Oh shut up." Several moments of peaceful silence followed before she spoke again. "You know, I'd still be scared without you. If that wasn't true I'd have just disappeared."

The blood had already begun to clot and congeal in his beard and Joel dabbed at his nose, tilting his head back to study the ceiling, wishing the future was contained within its imperfections.

"I'd have just come looking for you."

By the time he dropped his gaze down to the crumpled figure next to him she was already fast asleep. It took the noon sun of the following day to wake the girl, light slipping through the partially drawn curtains above, pulling her from hazy dreams back into foggy consciousness. As Ellie groggily shifted her weight some part of her brain wondered where the pillow and blankets that enveloped her had come from. The question was soon answered. A slight cough echoed out beside her bundled form and she twisted to see Joel, eyes closed, chest heaving up and down from a deep sleep right next to her. Gingerly she sat up and moved his arm, snaking it around her shoulders, and rested her head on his chest. A quick buck of her legs lifted the blanket up and away, settling over the two of them as she closed her eyes again. A few more hours wouldn't hurt anyone.

* * *

 _Summer 2036 – Jackson, Wyoming_

The rumbling of her stomach had increased from a nagging sensation to a borderline frenzy after parting from Joel. All this walking about could really run a girl down, not to mention she forgot to eat breakfast, again. As far as habits went, she concluded, that was a bad one to get into. Ellie paused her hunt, easing down into the tall grass and shucking her battered pack off her person. She was honestly surprised it was still in one piece after everything, the irony of that thought being entirely lost on her, and began to rummage through it for any hint of something to snack on. She pushed aside bullets, bandages, a few worn and tattered books, and a dented canteen before her hand clasped around an envelope she didn't remember packing. With a grunt and a tug it pulled free of the clutter, and she flipped the lumpy packet over to study its front. There was a message on it, the words written in broad strokes of a pen. Parts of the letters were blotted out, stains of grease welling up from whatever was inside.

'You forgot breakfast. – Joel.'

The scent of jerky wafted out of the sealed paper, and she pulled it open, laughing to herself. It was stuffed with several thick strips of dried meat and a hard chunk of bread, and her mouth began to water in anticipation. The old man knew her way too well. Probably treated her too well, if there was such a thing. But no one – not Tommy, not Maria, not the God she didn't really believe in and _especially_ not even her, could ever hope to convince him of that. She was just some _one_ , an odd, transitory creature, trapped in that weird grey area of being closer to an adult than a kid, and with crippling abandonment issues to boot. Anywhere else she'd be alone and hungry, assuming she wasn't just dead, but not here. Here – there – wherever, as long as it was with him she was something. He would die for her. And though there were other reasons as well, because nothing was just _that_ fucking simple, she would live for him. She had promised him that, the day after she went off the deep end and he, metaphorically speaking, dragged her out. If she recalled correctly she gave him a hell of a bloody nose as a thank you present.

Muscles and ligaments strained as she stood. Breadcrumbs pattered to the forest floor from the motion, and with the last of the jerky viced between her teeth she wiped her hands on her pants. Insects seemed to swarm the final morsel of food and she gave and angry snort, swatting away the horde of buzzing legs and wings. Her rifle battered against her hip as she wound deeper into the woods, keen eyes scanning every bush for a rustle of life, ears straining to hear any out of place noises. There was nothing – no undue snapping of twigs, no flutter of feathers, and certainly no sign of anything like a proper kill.

Then, off in the distance, she heard it. A sharp crack of a gunshot echoed out. She silently pumped her fist in the air. The old man beat her to it, but dinner was dinner. She began to jog towards the sound when she froze. There was another crack. Then another one, the sounds suddenly much more ominous, rolling between the trees with an urgency that sent stabs of frightful adrenaline through her body. She took off at a sprint, hurdling logs and roots that dared to get in her way, for once missing the comforting feel of a switchblade in her back pocket.

* * *

 _Sloppy. Fucking sloppy_. Anger burned deep into his core, both at himself for walking into a trap, and at whatever mysterious assailants were currently bracketing his position. He rolled over an upturned tree, shoving himself into the small cover its dead roots afforded. Another round cracked into the bark, splinters of wood slicing across his cheek like shards of glass. Every time his body twitched another round would scream out, pinning him behind that god-forsaken tree. He could hear the quick calls of the ambushers barking out back and forth in profanity laden updates.

Whoever they were, they knew what they were doing, and had the gear to back it up. In his years of survival Joel had come to learn just about any weapon by its sound. It didn't do too well to stick your head up and try to get a good look at it. The sharp barks of a pistol, the deep bass boom of a shotgun, and so many others were just all too familiar retorts to him. So though he knew what was being fired at him, it only served to worry him even more. There was, by his estimation, about six military-grade rifles spitting government-issued death over his head.

It had all happened so fast. There had been a flash of green-brown to his left, followed by a bellowed command to 'drop your fucking gun.' His only answer had been to twist his body, jerking his bolt-action rifle towards the movement, and firing at it. The figure, now resolved to be someone clad in fatigues, had cursed and ducked, the bullet punching a hole where his head would have been. Then the forest seemed to open up on him, and he had sprinted for the nearest cover he could see.

Majority of his brain was focused on the immediate concern of survival, but some far removed part of his psyche churned away at the situation and could only come up with a single word answer. _Why?_ Why the military, why so close to the town and why him, with his little Ellie somewhere out there.

If there was an answer he couldn't hear it over the chatter of gunfire.

A metal object, slightly cylindrical and glinting in the light, bounced over the tree, landing in the dirt and rolling to a stop at his feet. Adrenaline flooded his body and his heart seemed to scream with each beat. He only had time to kick at it before his world exploded into light.

Spinning violently, the world returned to existence a moment later, and Joel rallied as best he could. Everything was noise, and his vision swam with a million dots. Pain stabbed into his head with every twitch and movement, and he was vaguely aware of his legs feeling singed. Compelled by basic human reflex to not stay where he was he stumbled up and away. The detached part of his mind raged at him, but he pushed on with a primal instinct - to get away, to find Ellie, to keep her safe. Something hard and violent slammed him to the dirt, and he coughed as rich earth clung to the back of his throat. He tried to stand again and it was then that the pain hit him, driving the air out of his lungs with a chilling bellow. One leg thrashed in the dirt, the other twitching as the pants leg began to turn soak red, blood pouring from his ruined knee. A bullet had struck him dead below the back of the knee, tumbling and tearing through bone and muscle, frightful results being left in its wake. He raised his head from the dirt, vision chocked with agony, and spotted a glint of reddish hair bounding towards him. Pushing the damage to his body aside he commanded his lungs to work, and began to yell with everything he had.

"Don't you do it! Don't you fucking do it!" His voice caught in his throat, unconsciousness surging up to take him. He bit it back, begging his body to last just a little bit longer. "I know what you want, I know what you'll do! Go! Just go!"

The last words left his mouth and a moment later the world left him, dropping away with a sickening lurch as his mind screamed into darkness.

* * *

The eyes of a soldier bobbed in her gun-sight and hot tears stung her eyes, a stuttering, animalistic rage coursing through her limbs. The words reached her ears, and Ellie felt her heart tear in two. To the soldiers who now surrounded his body he was just a wounded man, screaming at them for mercy. But he had been talking to her, pleading to not do what he knew she ached to. And that was to put a round in the closest one's head and fuck the consequences. He really did know her too well. She knew without a doubt that if she pulled the trigger she would die. Eight men jogged out of the bushes, six armed with rifles, two with what looked to her like smaller versions of the huge guns that she had seen mounted on military trucks burnt out and scattered throughout the country. One of the men bent over Joel's body, tossing his weapon away as he inspected him.

"He'll live." She let out a deep breath as he continued speaking. "Leg's fucked up, but that's a problem for the docs. Get him up, get him bandaged, and let's get fucking going." The man who had spoke stuck a thumb behind him, jerking it towards a clearing a few hundred meters away, before he stood aside, pressing a finger into his ear to blot out unneeded noise as he began to speak into a radio.

The other soldiers bobbed over Joel's limp form like ants, one cutting away the ruined fabric and applying a tourniquet to his shattered leg as two others unfurled a collapsible stretcher. With a heave they rolled his mass onto the rough cloth, and with a grunt and curse hefted him up.

"He's fucking heavy for one of them. What do they even want with one of these wastelanders?"

"Don't know, don't care. I'd say it's a need to know basis with all this bullshit, and we clearly don't need to know."

One of the soldiers let out a quick laugh before speaking, his voice quivering as the adrenaline slowly worked out of his system. "I heard that. I just want to get back home. My girl misses me."

A few looks were shared between the other men, before they burst into laughter.

"Man, if she's your girl, then she's everyone's girl. That woman's hungrier for _meat_ than a friggin' clicker."

Ellie watcher one man shoot a venomous look at the other and she inched behind a bush, trying to get as close as possible, hoping against hope to see a chance to save the unconscious man.

"Fuck off Lahey. You're just pissed that your ex decided she had a better chance in the wild than put up with you."

The banter continued back and forth as the soldiers moved out in a line, with Joel being carried in the center. The group moved towards the tree-line and Ellie pressed against the ground, willing herself to appear as small as possible. Their steps took them down and away, walking past her hidden form just scant meters away as they headed towards the clearing, stopping after several minutes when a curious thumping sound could be heard. She twisted her head to listen better, the sound rising to a crescendo, when something big and metal swooped over, the sun momentarily being blotted from her view by its hard lines. It powered over the trees, seeming to dare gravity to wrestle it to the earth, and circled the landing site before settling down amongst the grass. The men ran towards it, hunched and bent against the powerful gusts emanating from wickedly large blades slicing the air above them. A door on the side of the thing opened up and Ellie could just make out another figure, beckoning them in. She saw the stretcher pushed into the dark compartment, then one by one the soldiers hop in, before the door was shut. The pitch of the engine increased and the machine lurched back off the ground, waiting until it rose above the madly flailing tree tops before nosing down and disappearing into the distance.

Ellie lay unmoving for some minutes, listening for any sign that the machine would return. Stillness seemed to envelope her and she pushed herself away from the ground, stumbling towards where her protector had fallen. Blood caked the dry grass and she sank to her knees, the reality of what had happened becoming too much for her. She was alone. In a burst of hopeless rage she punched the earth once, then twice, letting her fist fly up and down as it pleased. Something stabbed into her knuckle and she paused in the assault, forcing open eyes chocked with angry tears. Fingers quickly raked through the blood-stained grass, and she held her prize up. It was his watch, one leather band torn and destroyed.

When her tears came back there was no anger in them, only a bottomless sorrow. She cried and cried until her sobs were empty, aching hiccups. For the first time in a long time there were no comforting hands wrapped around her, no soft coo'ings from a hardened man about how everything would be alright, no gentle, tentative kisses planted on the top of her head. There was only silence, and the slight flutter of wind against her drying tears. Thoughts bubbled up like a wellspring and an epiphany sliced into her mind like a blade, cutting away the fear and doubt like discarded fat. He wanted her to live, even if it took him dying for that to happen. The absolute last thing he would want her to do is come looking for him. He might never forgive her if she did something so stubborn and foolish.

Well, he could hate her if he needed to, hell he could never speak to her again if that's what it took. But she would not let the world hurt _him_ anymore.

With fire in her eyes she slipped the watch into her back pocket, setting off back to Jackson.

* * *

 **A/N:**

Well there we go, my first chapter! I sincerely hope you all enjoyed it, and if you have any question/comments/concerns please don't hesitate to let me know.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:**

Hello all, here's chapter 2, finished and ready for your viewing pleasure. Now I don't want to make a promise I can't keep, but I'm going to try to update the story once a week. Life is pretty busy, and I'm trying to keep a very high standard of writing and editing for myself, so I'd rather update late and have it be worthwhile, than update early and have it be lacking in quality. Anyways, as before, I hope you enjoy, and let me know what you think!

* * *

 _Summer 2036 – Jackson, Wyoming_

Jackson loomed at her in the distance, flickering in and out of view behind dancing treetops as Ellie wound down towards it. Her steps seemed to echo on the hard packed dirt road, tiny scuffs of dust being kicked up in her wake as she jogged forwards. The sun had crept behind the horizon, a bruised purple reigning across the sky above. The town was nestled in the crook of massive, rolling hills, sitting placidly in their deep valley. To her the shadows had always seemed to stretch longer here than anywhere else - questing out like lithe fingers, always searching, always probing. The protective walls of the settlement reflected a deep, smooth gun-metal blue, the last-minute, patch-worked composition of its surfaces not yet defined. Lights had already winked on in the cabins and guard towers dotting the town, the interior lights flickering with a welcoming orange hue, the perimeter being bathed in harsh, unforgiving white. She could just make out figures tracing up and down the dusty trails between buildings. Jackson had been her home for two odd years now, and she knew every twist and turn it contained. It had never looked so empty to her before.

Her mind was a hurricane, whipping back and forth between anger, fear, and sorrow. There was no word to explain the loss she felt, and if there was she never wanted to know it. She could feel herself on the verge of collapse, of falling once more into that dark pit of despair and anguish that would leave her a husk of a being. With every ounce of herself and every step she took she fought it, and fought it for him. Joel was the one constant in her mind, the planet to which all her thoughts seemed to orbit like moons. She would bring him back; she would make him safe so they could both return to that blissful state of existence that had been there just that morning. And pity any poor motherfucker that stood in her way of getting that.

She neared the main gate, a band of blinding light swinging around to pin her in place. It transfixed her, forcing her eyes into a squint as unseen guards scrutinized her form. Vainly she raised a hand against the glare, trying to blink away the spots she saw. With a metallic clap the light was switched off, a shout of "clear" ringing out as the gate began to lumber open. She strode through the threshold, and slipped into the small crowds of people on the street. The guards at the gate were puzzled; normally she was the one all banter and smiles where Joel was the strong silent type. It never occurred to them to ask the returning girl where he was.

The path to Tommy's house was a short one – it sat dead center of the town, a looming, plantation style abode, its paint chipped and flaking from too many years of harsh living and too few of good repair. Ellie headed towards it, ignoring those who stopped and smiled at her, a single-minded drive forcing her legs forward and her gnawing terror down. She rounded a bend, and saw it. Maria was striding back and forth across the raised porch, the static chatter of a radio humming away in her hand as she attempted to manage the quiet chaos that was her town. She didn't see Ellie until she had crept up right behind her, the teen's light steps proving insufficient to make the half rotted steps groan and creek in protest like they usually did. Maria turned towards the light cough behind her, a greeting dying in her throat as she took in the state of the shivering creature before her.

The girl she saw was caked in dirt, strands of hair normally corralled by her ponytail stuck wildly across her forehead and neck, glued in place by sweat and grime. All that could be explained away by a hard day in the woods, as could the shallow cuts and scabs on her hands. But it was her eyes that gave away the fact that something was clearly, undeniably wrong. In the two years Maria had known Ellie she had seen the girl change and grown. Beyond the purely physical shifts her eyes had changed from those filled with uncertainty and mistrust to those filled with a hunger for knowledge and laughter, and from a mind shackled with guilt to one free to finally float amongst dreams and happiness. But now her eyes had changed again, and there was hardness, an edge, and a primal fear that gave them a wild glare. That was to say nothing of a battered watch she held in her hand. _That watch_.

Along with her husband Maria ran this town after her father had passed. She had built it from ruins, populated it with wanderers and had seen it so close to destruction so many times that it took something unexpected, something entirely unpredictable to even scratch at her veneer of calm.

"Oh shit." The older woman breathed.

* * *

It had started out as a poker night, played with tattered cards and worn chips. It was something Tommy liked to do, a nice routine way to let off some steam, have a drink or four, and end the day on a good note. Seeing as how the table was filled with Jackson's most influential and powerful, it also worked as a nice way of cutting through the red-tape bullshit to get to the core of any problems.

"Tommy, take a swig of this. I brewed it myself. Managed to get some apples in there for flavor."

The man to his left, Eric, passed the blond haired man a mug and he took it up to his lips, knocking back a swig. The moonshine burned its way down this throat, not a hint of apple to be found, spreading fiery warmth through his stomach. It was almost unbearably strong. Eric's mouth, crisscrossed from scars, twitched into a smile as Tommy set the cup down with a deep exhale. He slid it back to the weathered man and nodded approvingly, the hint of a grimace on his face.

"Good stuff. You're going to have to give Maria the recipe."

A quick laugh echoed around the table, the sound of clattering poker chips synching up with the _tick-tock_ of a miraculously intact grandfather clock nestled in the corner of the den. The man across from Tommy – a short, brutish man with the gnarled hands of a farmer who went by the name of Natley, cleared his throat, a pale blue chip twirling between his fingers.

"Talk and deal, boys; it's a poker game, not a knitting circle." A new hand of cards was tossed out, each of the players glancing at their hands before summing up the opposition. Natley continued on with an almost imperceptible snort of annoyance. The dealer was out to get him. "If the weather keeps up we'll be able to put apples in just about anything we fuckin' want. Land's been good to us this year."

An appreciative murmur spread through the group. From harsh experience they knew most winters came down to the wire, the town's foodstuffs always dangerously close to running out when conditions got severe. Jackson's soil was finally offering up its bounty to the hard working farmers under Natley's tutelage.

Eric spoke up, not a man to easily allow himself to be outdone.

"Hunting's good too. With all those bastard infected and scavengers gone, for the most part that is, the pickings have been real nice. Hell, at the rate that those animals are screwing out there we stand to have a Thanksgiving to remember. A chicken in every pot and all that."

The man smiled to himself, a reptilian air about his face, not noticing, or not caring, about Natley's lingering gaze. They played cards together, even worked together if needed, but each man though the other was a royal prick.

It was then that the front door banged open, Maria swooping in with Ellie trailing behind. The two women stopped to take in the situation, and the men seated at the table twisted in their chairs to gaze at the interlopers. Tommy broke the momentary silence.

"Maria. And is that the wonderful Miss Ellie I see there? Evenin' girl, you look haggard as all hell."

He went to continue, before Maria cut him off, a sharp slice of her hand in the air demanding silence.

"The military's been nosing around in the hills." With a flick of her hand she tossed the watch at the table, and it landed with a slight thump, knocking over Eric's pile of chips. "They got Joel."

It was as if the air got sucked out of the room, a heavy silence blanketing it like a fog. Those seated seemed to react the same, to a man picking up their glasses and taking a long pull of whatever they had brewed up for the night, the light air of entertainment dead and gone. With a deep sigh Tommy tossed his cards onto the table, leaning back and running a hand through his hair, looking Ellie in the eyes with a heavy gaze.

"Christ…When'd it happen? How?

His wife opened her mouth to speak, partly to remain in control, partly to shield Ellie from having to delve back into those memories.

"She was out hunting with Joel-"

"He went one way, I went the other," Ellie interrupted, stepping around the older woman to face the table. Maria meant well, but she wasn't a child that needed to be coddled. She could keep herself together, for the moment at least. "We were about two hours out from the walls, and figured our chances were better if we split up. Fucking stupid in hindsight, I know. I heard gunshots; too many to just be Joel finding dinner, so I took off towards it. I thought maybe it was a stray runner or something. When I got there he was, well, he was on the ground, bleeding and…look, the military took him, bundled him up and dragged him into this big metal _thing_ that appeared out of nowhere. It went south-east and disappeared. That's all I got. How do we find him?"

Another man spoke up, leaning forwards to look her in the eyes. His gaze wasn't nearly as severe as the other men, with eyes more akin to a doting teacher than a survivor, and he drummed his fingers on the table in thought as he sized up the situation.

"Excuse me lil' Miss. This big thing you said picked Joel up, what'd it look like?"

Ellie gave a slight shrug, her shoulder blades aching from the movement, and recalled the few details she could. It was just now hitting her how tired and bruised she was. The man nodded at each detail, his fingers never ceasing their rhythmic tapping. When she finished he leaned back, giving a slight cough.

"Thank you. I'm sorry if that was unpleasant to recollect." He turned to address the seated group. "That explains everything. She saw a helicopter, of that we've got no doubt I'm sure." A chorus of nods confirmed his suspicious, and he took another sip of his drink before continuing. "Now way back when before my engineering days I was a young, dumb military man. Served five years in the army, three of those as a crew-chief stuffed in the ass of a Blackhawk. I'd bet everything I've got that that's what she saw. And there's only one place that the government would have the facilities to still launch those ugly birds: Denver. You strap a pair of extended-range fuel tanks to it and the mileage it can travel is just into our territory."

"Denver?" Eric butted in once more, a sharp, guttural laugh punctuating his words. "I thought Denver went to shit years ago."

Natley cleared his throat, his chance to get one over on his bastard accomplice too much to resist.

"Went to shit, yeah. Doesn't mean it's not still there. The military pulled back to the core areas of the city, regrouped and rearmed before taking back quite a few slices of town from the infected and…whatever those freedom-fighter are called – Butterflies or something."

"Fireflies." Tommy breathed, and Ellie stiffened at the mention of their names. The farmer inclined his head towards Tommy, a few fingers pointed towards him to concede the name.

"Fireflies, right. Last I heard, and this is from one of my new boys who showed up 'bout a month ago, is that they were hurting for food and electricity. Things this happy little town is starting to have in plenty."

"Alright, so that answers why and how. What the hell are we going to do about it?" That got a few dirty looks shot at Eric, the hunter seemingly slipping into a foul mood. He had had a winning hand.

At this Ellie perked up, tossing her hands in the air, palms up, annoyance and anger tinting her voice.

"What do mean what are we going to do? We're going to fucking get him back, right Tommy?"

Her eyes burned into him and he gave a deep groan, standing up and stretching his legs. He chewed at his lip as he slowly walked around, stopping when he was behind Ellie, his eyes cast down towards the floor.

"Going toe-to-toe with the military ain't something this town can afford to do. We've got close to a thousand souls here counting on us to keep them safe."

Wheeling around to face him the young girl shot a withering stare, venom mixed with disappointment dripping in every word.

"What the _hell_? He's your fucking brother!"

His gaze shot up, locking with hers.

"You think I don't know that, girl? But there's only so much we can do against the goddamned army." A frustrated whine had entered his voice and he dug a hand into his jacket pocket, determined not to let anyone see it tremble. Ellie backed away from the group, shaking her head in disbelief, her head pounding at the betrayal. Maria looked away, unable to even gaze at the stricken girl, as did those at the table. Only Eric seemed to give a slight snort, reaching for his drink and taking another deep sip before talking.

"The man's right."

It took every ounce of composer Ellie had not to put a bullet through his head, and her fists balled up, fingers digging into her skin deep enough to almost draw blood. She began to tremble, eyes darting to the door, unable to tolerate the present company or the situation.

"Fine. Fucking fine. I'll get him on my own then. Thanks for nothing, assholes."

That drew another chortle from the veteran hunter and he locked eyes with Ellie, a dark amusement smoldering in them. He had nothing against Joel personally, but he hadn't lived as long as he had by being overly sentimental.

"You're what, a 17 year-old girl? About the only thing you can do on your own is wipe your ass and tell bad jokes"

The girl's nostrils flared and she took a single step towards him, grabbing the watch off the table in the process. Maria moved halfway between them, fearing more for Eric's wellbeing than Ellie's.

"Oh yeah? Want to hear one then? Knock-knock."

He rolled his eyes, deciding that he'd humor the brat. "Who's there?"

"Fuck. You."

With a spin of the heel she stormed out, cutting a path towards the small cabin she had shared with Joel. Only once her steps were the only things she could hear did she allow tears of frustration to well up. She had expected more from them. So, so much more. In a few minutes' walk the house was in front of her - a cozy two story building nestled in the shadows of one of the higher parts of Jackson's wall. With a resounding thud she slammed the door behind her, locking it to keep out anyone she didn't want to see, which basically amounted to everyone.

The interior was suffocatingly dark, every object just a different shade of black in the gloom. She closed her eyes, navigating into the living room by memory alone, threading between chairs and tables as she headed towards the couch. With each step she blew a little more air out of her lungs, feeling her chest press inwards, willing the anger and fear out of her with each passing second. Her rifle clattered to the floor first, and with a shrug her backpack followed shortly after. Legs brushed against heavy cushions and she reached the couch, falling down onto the worn fabric before expanding her lungs with a gasp. The springs squeaked in protest under her, and Ellie could hear the pounding of her heartbeat. The house was too goddamned quiet. There had been a routine to life just this morning. But like a piece of glass it was shattered into a million fragments, each one cutting deep into her when she wrapped her mind around it.

Reality and fantasy collided and she could almost hearing the comforting sound of the door opening and closing, with Joel's heavy footsteps echoing down the hall as he shuffled in from a hard day of work. If she beat him home she'd be sprawled out on the couch with a blanket over her legs, book in hand. That was also one of the few times her jacket would be tossed up and away, the ghastly bite mark exposed, raw and pink on an otherwise alabaster skin. He would, every single time, walk over to the couch and gently shove her off to one side before collapsing on it with a groan. To play her part in that great game she would always give him some kind of hell, before dropping the act and asking how his day went, shifting just a little closer to him as he spoke.

"Shit, Joel. Why us - why you - after everything?" Her voice peeped out into the dark and though she knew there would be no answer some tiny, irrational part of her mind held out hope. But there was nothing, and her shoulders dropped. Taking another deep breath she peeled away from the couch, steering into the kitchen, and yanked open the refrigerator door. A rheumy, yellowed light spilled out of its innards as she began her search for dinner. Ellie pulled out a plate of food, tossing it onto the table as she fished for the pitcher of water buried in the back. Finding the chilled metal container she backed away, shoving the door closed as she leaned over the table. Despite a lack of appetite she picked at the cold meat, each bite tasting like ash. She wouldn't find him any better on an empty stomach.

Everything – every goddamn little thing – brought back memories of them. They had built the table together. They had built the chairs together. It seemed like she couldn't even take a shit without something reminding her of Joel. Her spirits dropped even further and she pushed the now empty plate away with a weary sigh, stumbling up the stairs to the bedrooms. The steps deposited her at a junction. To the left was her room; to the right was Joel's. Without thinking the worn girl turned right and marched down the short hallway to his door. It was unlocked - it was always unlocked, had always been unlocked, just in case she needed him. The air seemed stiller in his room, and she glided across the floor to the edge of his bed. A small lamp sat on a nightstand and she flicked the switch, the bulb heating up and casting long shadows on everything it touched. She looked around the room, seeing it in a new light without his presence. It was Spartan, devoid of majority of the creature comforts her room contained. No desk for writing or reading, no chair for changing or relaxing, just four walls, a closet, the nightstand, and a bed. She lay back on the stiff mattress, twisting her head into the pillow, inhaling what was left of his smell. She closed her eyes as she bent her head more, burying her face into the feathers. It smelled safe. It smelled like home. She loved the cabin, but to her home was a person, not a place. Joel was her home, and Ellie was achingly homesick.

With a flutter eyes opened, and her gaze focused on the small bit of clutter at the bottom of the lamp. The first and most obvious thing was a fully loaded pistol. _Such a Joel move_ , she thought, entirely glossing over the fact that she kept a pistol just like that under her bed. Her eyes traveled a little further, and rested on a dog-eared photo taken long ago. It showed a much younger man than the Joel she knew, his arm around a young blond girl, all carefree smiles and levity. Ellie never thought much of Sarah. She only hoped that he had finally come to peace with her loss.

It was the second photo that took her by surprise. It was right next to the first, framed in a shabby wire holder. It was a picture of her. Ellie sat up, reaching out to lift the photo off the stand, bringing it closer to her face to study the details. It had been taken a few months after they had arrived in Jackson, and long enough after her little breakdown over his lie that she had felt at least something like her normal self again. It was a snapshot of the first proper guitar lesson he had ever given her. A weak smile graced her lips and she remembered him making her strum the same chords over and over until her fingers ached, before disappearing for a moment, only to rematerialize with an ancient looking Polaroid camera, instructing her to simply "act natural," whatever that had meant. So she had tried her best to smile, which after studying the picture looked more like she was trying not to fart, and let him click away, a developing picture shooting from the camera. For some strange reason it never occurred to her that he kept that photo, never mind keep it next to the one of his deceased daughter. There was meaning in that, though in her ruined state her mind simply couldn't fathom what it could be.

Anxiety and exhaustion were a strange combination and she fell into a mad twilight land, drifting in and out of consciousness, unable to tell what was real and what was not. Waking fever dreams assaulted her depleted psyche, the darkness molding and contorting, an outlandish, almost theatrical replaying of the day's events happening at the foot of Joel's bed. Ellie watched in muted detachment, her body seemingly frozen in place as she heard his screams echo from the walls. Her eyelids would close and reopen to another scene, the shadows only too happy to produce an encore. Days started to mesh together, with happier moments entwining with the sadder ones. Figures twitched and the scene changed, suddenly Joel was giving her that guitar lesson, smiles stretching across both of their faces, each figure seemingly oblivious to the blood pouring down his knee, and the tears streaking down her face. She felt nothing but an aching hollowness. The hallucinations continued on and on until eventually her mind could take no more, and sleep claimed her.

* * *

Morning came, the sun dragging itself above the horizon, bands of light questing around the sleepy town. Ellie lay wide awake, the picture Joel had taken of her still clasped tightly against her trembling chest. Some cosmic act of mercy had spared her after sleep took her shuddering form. Dreams - real dreams - had woken her before the sun crested the hills – happy dreams, for a change - dreams where she and Joel were safe and joyful and content, and as reality refocused before her, her mind worked over every aching detail, grasping onto every flash of his face and every echo of their laughter. Of course it was in this fucked up situation - where she stood the greatest chance of losing him - that her mind decided to relive and create so many happy times. It was torture for her to picture him, but she did it anyways. The thought of not seeing him hurt even worse.

Aching limbs dragged her up and out of bed, and she set the picture down on his pillow before turning to face the rest of his room. Her brief respite was over, and it was time to prepare. She retreated to the family room and began a systematic search of the house, emptying it of bullets for her weapons and food for her travels. Everything useful was piled up on the kitchen table, and Ellie stood back to take stock of her situation. Plenty of food, and plenty of bullets for a change. Jackson really had been safe if they managed to stockpile more ammo then she could carry. Every corner of her pack was filled with the necessities, the books and other nonessentials being tossed out without a second though. With a grunt she hefted it up, feeling the ammunition and cans of food readjust their positions as her back pressed against them. It was time, and she was ready.

With a morbid sense of finality the door closed behind her, and Ellie began to trace her way towards the stable. Denver would come by much faster on horseback. The building in question was located at the entrance of the town, a long, rectangular structure with high walls and a slanted roof, the light that leaked in through the open door and opened windows shimmering in the dusty air. The smell of stale hay permeated the area, and her nose crinkled involuntarily. She had beaten the stable-master, quietly relishing the small victory of not having to argue and threaten her way to taking one of the many beasts of burden.

Her steps led her down the rows of horses, each creature being studied with a careful eye. The last thing she needed was a lame mount. Jackson had been lucky though, the stock of horses they started out with had quickly increased, good blood-lines ensuring that the animals were the prime of their species. Ellie stopped in front of one, a sturdy looking, chocolate colored horse. It gave a lazy snort of acknowledgement at her presence, and slowly walked towards her in its stall as she extended a hand. Nostrils flared and exhaled as the horse smelled her, and she reached forwards to scratch at its nose. It would do.

"I thought I'd find you here." The voice made her freeze, and she saw Tommy and three other men blocking the entrance. A cold, bitter anger welled up in her, her fingers instinctively balling into fists. She didn't have time for this stand-off crap. Before she could open her mouth to release some very creative threats he continued speaking. "Look, I ain't here to stop you. Just give me the decency of letting me talk without your eyes telling me how bad you want me dead."

She decided she would let him talk, but she wasn't about to let him off the hook.

"Oh, I only want you as dead as you seem to want Joel."

He nodded, soaking up the abuse. His hands moved to his hips and he kicked at the dirt.

"Don't think for one second that I want to see any kind of harm come to my brother. Now I know you know it's more complicated than just riding out and saving the day like you're in a goddamn movie. I thought you were smarter than that, Ellie."

She bristled. He was in her way _and_ insulting her.

"Yeah, well that's what it looks like to me. You're making a girl who can only 'wipe her ass and tell bad jokes' charge into a fucking quarantine zone by herself. Not many other ways to see it." She threw up air quotes as she recounted Eric's description, disdain clear in her voice.

He held up his hands, conceding the point. Joel had told him, more like warned him, about how she got once her mind was set on something. Part of him had just thought the man was exaggerating for effect. But here was a five foot three, hundred pound force of nature staring him down. Right then she scared him more than the infected did.

"Ellie, I've got plenty of other people whose lives depend on me being right here every day. I _can't_ help you, as much as I want to. But I happened to find three gentlemen who will."

He gestured towards the men who had accompanied him, men who up until that ad-hoc introduction had been content to linger in the shadows of the doorway, unwilling to intervene in the argument. They stepped forwards and Ellie scrutinized the volunteers, slowly letting the anger dribble away as Tommy walked past her and deeper into stable.

The first was an aged man resembling what she thought Bill - an old acquaintance, if you could call him that - would have looked like if he was half balding, and hadn't looked like such an asshole. He gave her a nod, a slight smile on his face.

"You've got spirit, girl. I like that." His voice was raspy but kind, though a slight twinge of mournfulness stained his words as heavily lidded eyes peered at her from beneath a head of graying hair. "I was in something of your predicament, once. I lost a son a few years ago. I was given the chance to go get him, and well, I never took it. Instead I just buried my head in the sand like a damn coward. Was just too damn afraid of everything back then. You're braver than I ever was. The name's Wallace."

The second man shifted from foot to foot as Ellie sized him up. A sense of impatience permeated his figure, and he oozed potential energy like a coiled spring. A disgusting scar ran up his cheek and a large chunk of his right ear missing where the old wound ended, the remaining portion a mangled hunk of scar tissue. He tried to smile at her as well, her eyes being drawn to the scar which twisted across his face like a serpent with every tick of his muscles.

"Caleb. Name's Caleb." The man seemed unwilling or unsure of what else to say, so Ellie shifted her gaze to the third and final man. A crooked smile crawled up her face. This one, at least, wasn't a complete stranger.

"Really, Harmless? You?"

The man gave a slight shrug, his face locked in its perpetual mask of neutrality. His name was Harmless, or rather he hadn't given any other name but Harmless to go by. The story went that when he first wandered up to the gates the guards had asked who he was, his only reply being 'a harmless stranger.' So it stuck. She had met him shortly after his arrival, trailing along with Tommy as he gave the newest resident a tour. Most people that showed up were filled with questions and gawked like tourists, seemingly unable to process that a society like Jackson could still exist. Harmless hadn't spoken a word the entire tour, only waiting until the end to ask Tommy to volunteer him for wherever help was needed the most. The man had secrets - secrets that he was couldn't or wouldn't share. Perhaps that's why he and Ellie got along; that, and his interesting choice of expressing himself.

"No one should have to go on a suicide mission alone."

A dark chuckle emanated from the girl, and she rolled her eyes as she spoke.

"Glad to see you remembered to pack your fatalism. Does wonders for morale."

The sound of stamping hooves and sliding metal cut short any further introductions, and Tommy led four horses out of their stalls and down the long hallway, saddles already prepped and fixed to the beasts' backs, bringing them to a halt before the small group. The co-leader of Jackson shared a look with each of those present, before nodding to himself, passing the reigns out to the ad-hoc rescue party.

"Alright, meet and greet's over, now y'all saddle up and get going. I'm sure Joel's missing Ellie something fierce by now."

One by one each member of the group hoisted themselves up onto a mount, Ellie landing heavily in the saddle of the brown horse she had chosen earlier. The others gently spurred their horses forwards, trotting them out of the gloom and into fresher air. She made to follow, but Tommy reached out an arm to block the animal's path, his eyes centered first on the straw-covered ground, slowly rising up to meet hers. He reached into his pocket and produced a pistol, the metal scraped and well worn from years of use. He offered it to her, grip first.

"This gun here has gotten me through more close calls than I'd care to remember or admit to. It's got quite the bit of good luck built up in it. I want you to take it." His tone dropped, the usual levity being replaced by something much more somber. "Look, I want you to know that I'd go with you if I could. I did the best I could to get these men to follow you. I know this is hard, and I feel damn guilty I'm not riding out with y'all. It's probably scary as hell to not have him with you. But I've watched you two, Ellie. That man has taught you everything he knows about surviving. Hell, I'd wager that you're tougher than he is now. So go bring him home, alright?"

She coughed and fidgeted, unsure of what to say. He had one more question, a tinge of uncertainty in his voice.

"We okay now? I don't want any bad blood between us."

She shifted in the saddle, breaking eye contact to gaze around her. Without a word she extended her hand, letting Tommy place the pistol in it, before giving a slow nod of her head.

"Yeah, we're okay."

Anxiety drained out of the man as he released a long breath, the habitual smile he almost always wore returning to grace his features. He gave her leg a gentle slap, before motioning her to follow him outside.

The men had lined their horses up in a semi-circle, waiting for her to appear. All eyes were on her, and she shifted uncomfortably, not used to being the center of attention. She cleared her throat, unconsciously brushing another strand of hair away.

"Look, I don't want to sound like a bitch, but this is my Joel we're going after. We do things my way, alright?"

Wallace gave his horse's neck a scratch, running his tongue across his lips as he processed her words. She was half expecting a fight, until she saw a gleam of sincerity in his brown eyes.

"Of course, miss. I'll go ahead and speak for everyone here; you're in charge. He's your pa, after all."

"My what?" He had completely lost her on that last part. Joel had feet, not paws. The aging man scratched his head, his words suddenly less sure than they were a second ago.

"He is your pa, ain't he?"

She looked at him quizzically, her head slightly cocked, mimicking the movements of his lips.

"P-ah-wh? What's that?"

The man blushed slightly, his vernacular getting the best of him once again.

" _Pa_ \- you know - paternal. Padre." He shook his head and gave a slight shrug. "Dad. He is your Dad, right?"

Ellie remembered a nursery game for kids back in Boston - the one where they had to mach big, blocky wooden shapes with the right outlines. Match the right shape to the right hole and it would slide in, smooth as silk. The little ones had loved that game, whooping in triumph as triangles slid into triangles, squares into squares, stars into stars. She had never understood their elation at something so simple – so cosmically obvious. And yet there she was, being stared at by four pairs of eyes, a bittersweet grin spreading across her face despite the situation as she recalled exactly where Joel kept that picture of her, and something in her mind simply _clicked_.

"Yeah. He's my Dad."

A long whistle echoed out, and everyone's eyes shifted to Tommy, who stood there with a grin to match hers. He opened his mouth to speak, a slight chuckle escaping before his words could.

"Hell, it's about time y'all started being honest about the situation."

The gates began to grind open and Tommy stepped back, the time for talking over. With a certain sense of finality he shook each of the rider's hands, before stepping into the shade of the stable. The gates squealed to a stop, opening up to a vast, untamed wilderness. With a final, furtive glance back at the town Ellie spurred her horse forwards, exiting Jackson in a flurry of hooves and dust. Three other riders galloped out in her wake, winding their way up narrow paths into the hills. The towers and cabins receded from view, the rolling land quickly swallowing the small sanctuary. She felt no pangs of regret, no longings to turn back and give up. Her mind was made up – she would come back with Joel, or not at all.


	3. Chapter 3

_Summer 2036 – Somewhere in Colorado_

The group had been on the move for four days, creeping along deserted trails and overgrown roads as the sun trekked across the sky, eyes and ears alert for any signs of bandits or infected. Ellie had moved them at a brisk pace, driving hard and fast across the states, a single-minded determination homing her in on Denver like a missile. She guessed they weren't more than a day or so out from the Q.Z. at most. The rhythmic movements of the horse under her had allowed her to slip into a trance as they traveled, pushing the darker parts of her mind deep down. Though anxiety licked at her thoughts like a stuttering flame the act of doing something - of actually going after Joel, of not allowing the fucked up world they lived in to consume them both - had allowed her to silence the nagging terror that had threatened to cripple her.

The trip had been difficult but uneventful, only a few moments able to unnerve her in the slightest. The mountains and rough hills of Wyoming proved inhospitable to both infected and bandits alike - the lack of easy prey causing a slow migration of the former, and the lack of easy targets to murder and steal from driving away the latter - with Colorado proving much the same. That was fine with the young leader of the rescue party; the less they had to fight, the faster they could move.

Along the way they had passed through burnt out towns, the shells of buildings poking up from ruined streets like markers in a graveyard. As the sun would set they would scurry out of sight, taking shelter from the potential dangers of night in the dilapidated husks, scavenging amongst the ruins and rubble for any food they could find, unwilling to dip into the reserves they had packed. In much the same way the land had proven barren for foragers and bandits it proved barren for them, and a frustrating sense of waste burned and grew in the back of Ellie's mind with each can of food they opened. This must have been what Joel struggled with each and every day, she thought, walking that fine line between eating well enough to keep going and starving to death. Except for their first winter together she had never noticed the deadly balancing act on their travels together, relying on him to provide day in and day out. In comparison Jackson had made them soft.

By the time daylight ran out on the fourth day the party was physically exhausted. Ellie had woken them at dawn, moving them out across some of the harshest terrain they had encountered. The trails were overgrown, nature reclaiming the thin paths and roads that snaked through it like veins, forcing the riders off their horses to clear the way for the beasts. With blades and hands the vegetation was ripped away, and the party fought hard for each mile of progress. Each animal trotted behind their riders, saddles and packs laden with equipment and food. With a final push of effort they broke out onto easier terrain, and quickly began a search for somewhere safe enough to make camp.

The answer came in the form of a small, secluded clearing, hidden from easy view by a thick brace of trees and bushes. Ellie ushered them off the road, tying the horses off to a tree next to a diminutive, stagnant pond. The men eased off their animals, legs and calves aching from the hard day. One by one they collapsed to the ground; eyes pointed towards the heavens, bodies decompressing and relaxing as Ellie prepared a small fire. She gave a final, long breath into the smoking twigs and the embers took, a minuscule, crackling fire rising up into the dried leaves and branches. She sat back, a tired, accomplished smile across her face, the expression only slightly diminishing when she remembered it was Joel who had taught her how to perfect that technique.

"Nice fire. Looks like we'll get some hot food in us tonight." Caleb turned onto his stomach, propping himself up on his arms. To Ellie he looked like a cobra, poised to strike. She gave a heavy shrug of her shoulders.

"Guess so. What do we have?"

He pushed himself off the ground, dusting the fine powder of dirt off his jacket as he walked to his horse.

"We've still got some of that rabbit from this morning. I figure with a can of beans or two it'll make something of a stew."

He made to pull the dead animal out of a bloodied sack, but stopped, doubling over with his hands wrapped around his abdomen. He let out a groan, teeth biting down on his bottom lip, and rocked his way down to one knee. The rest of those present turned to look at him, and he waved his hand at them before they could say anything.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Nature's just calling in a very loud way." He stood again, his face a mask of relief underneath his scar as the cramps subsided, and gave a quiet laugh as everyone around could hear his stomach churn. Ellie pointed at Harmless, motioning towards Caleb.

"Go with him. Buddy up - I don't want any stupid shit to happen."

Harmless gave another of his languid shrugs and stood up, draping his rifle over his shoulders as Caleb rummaged for something to wipe with. A rag was stuffed into his pocket and he set out into the brush with the larger, silent man in tow. Ellie listened as the snapping of branches and crunching of leaves receded into the night air. Leaving Wallace behind was intentional. Harmless was good company, but a horrible conversationalist. She turned to see the aged man pull out a can of beans of his own, tearing the metal lid open with the point of his knife and digging into the contents with a dented metal spoon. He ate with gusto, stopping between bites to glance at her with an expectant air, eyes alight with curiosity as he chewed. She knew he had questions. She just didn't know what they were. Without preamble the old man launched into conversation.

"So, what was it with you and that farmhouse, if you don't mind me asking?"

Confusion swam in her exhausted eyes, and she stifled a yawn. Her mind slowly churned away at his words, trying to find the meaning behind them. They'd passed plenty of farmhouses so far.

"Excuse me?"

He leaned back, spooning another mouthful of beans up before wiping the back of his hand across his mouth and tossing the empty can at the fire. The label hissed and burnt away as he spoke. He stared at the tin before switching his gaze to her.

"That farmhouse a few miles out of Jackson. The one we stopped to take a piss break at. I didn't feel right asking about it in front of everyone else. You were the only one who wouldn't go inside. Swear I saw you shaking, girl. Afraid of the ghosts?" There was humor in his eyes, but his expression slowly changed, the small smile etched across his face inverting as he saw he bite her lip.

Any response seemed to stick in her throat. Visions of a dilapidated ranch swam to the forefront of her mind. She could still taste the moldy air, and almost feel the rusted springs beneath her as she flipped through the pages of a dead girl's diary. That particular place held some painful memories for her. Mostly a conversation that wasn't too pleasant to recall, especially with the last, great revelation before leaving Jackson; but also something else – something she had tried hard to leave behind in the passage of time.

"Ghosts? Depends on what you mean, I guess. Are you?"

Wallace crossed his arms, leaning back against the tree. Aching memories of his own played across his mind, and she watched him intently, taking in every fidget and twitch of his body as he thought.

"Like you said, depends on what you mean. If you're asking me if I believe in Casper, then 'course not. The infected are the only real 'ghosts' around here." He let out a heavy sigh before continuing. "But that's not what you're asking me, is it?" He saw the girl look down and away, staring deep into the dancing fire. The tongues of flame reflected in her emerald eyes, and he took the silence as her answer. He continued speaking.

"A person's past can haunt them worse than any spirit ever could. Regret will chase you down, and you can run and run but it'll find you every time. Life's got a funny way of evening the score. Every bit of hurt, every broken promise, every…failure, comes back around. This world will take everything from you if you let it."

"So how do you stop it then? How do you hold onto the few things you need in life?" She asked the question more to the fire than him, her eyes never wavering from the blaze, seeing figures dance and move amongst the embers. Her fingers wrung together, and she focused on the rush of air into and out of her lungs.

"You fight for them. Every single day, with everything you've got, you fight for them." With that Wallace lapsed into silence for some minutes, and the two sat there in the still air, watching the fire spit miniature comets of red into the dirt. The ageing man's voice cracked, a small whimper in his tone. "You've got to fight like I never did."

With a deep groan the man reopened wounds from long ago.

"My boy – my son – I lost him, like I said when we were getting ready to ride out. But I didn't lose him because he ran away; I lost him because I let him walk away. I was trying to do something good, you know. Just trying to be a good parent, or as good as one can be in a world like this. And I let the one good thing I had in my life walk away, and never come back. He said it was what he wanted, so I let him do it. Now I wake up every damn day to those footsteps echoing out of my life. I don't believe in ghosts, Ellie. But I'm sure as hell chasing one." Though she still refused to move her gaze his face had grown sickly pale, eyes madly darting from place to place, hearing condemnation in every quiet sound of nature.

"What happened?" She winced as the words left her mouth. For as long as she could remember she had a bad habit of asking too much too soon, and half expected him to remain silent, but the way he looked at her seemed like he was begging to unburden himself of his secret and of his pain. Before replying he wiped away a tear, thankful that the girl didn't see, his hands moving to scratch at the back of his neck, nails raking against the skin hard enough to make him grimace.

"He was 'bout your age. Maybe just a bit older. Tough, smart, and a damn idealist to boot. Despite all that he was still my beautiful baby boy. He saw his mom shot down by soldiers in our Q.Z. while she was just harmlessly begging one for a few more ration cards. And a man like him wouldn't accept something awful like that. A few days later he tells me he's in with a group of freedom-fighters. The Fireflies, if you've ever heard of them. Said they were looking for every person they could get to fight the good fight, so he signed up. I didn't know what to do, so I asked him if that was what he really wanted. He said yes, so I told him to give 'em hell."

A quiet sob shook him as old memories burned to the forefront of his mind, and Ellie felt her heart ache for his suffering. She added another log to the fire, taking comfort in its unpredictable dance. He buried his head in his hands, pressing his eyes against the palms of his hands. When he spoke again his voice was laced with raw hurt.

"I remember watching him go, letting him go, striding out of our little place with fire in his eyes. He turned around, and the last thing he ever said to me was 'I'm going to make the world a better place, Dad.' Two weeks later I had one of those damned Fireflies stop by to tell me he was shot dead. They thanked _me_ for his sacrifice. In the end the only way that boy changed the world was by not being a part of it anymore."

Wallace lifted his eyes to the softly glittering stars, searching the endless cosmic vista for any kind of pattern or sign. He saw none, and another silent sob wracked his body. His words sounded so much older to Ellie, the weight of his pain crushing down on him.

"I learned something that day. I learned that it ain't always about letting them go. If you love them, if you really love them, then sometimes it's about telling them why they should stay."

He cleared his throat and wiped at his nose, and when Ellie finally looked at him again she saw a different man. His head dropped just a bit more, eyes hidden behind raw and puffy lids, and his mouth hung slightly open, the act of closing it simply too much for him to bear. She had seen plenty of hurt people, and plenty of dead people. But it was rare to see the world they lived in take the time to break a man down to his core before destroying him. Still he rambled on, his mind sinking beneath the waves of his guilt.

"Parents will do stupid things for their kids. Kids will do stupid things for their parents. But if I've learned anything it's that doing something is better than doing nothing at all. Sometimes you have to lie to them to save them; hurt them to heal them. I shouldn't have let him go. He should have hated me, maybe even beat the shit out of me for asking him to forget about his dead mother and the awful people who made her that way, but he shouldn't have gone. Let me tell you, being hated is easier than being alone, and being pissed off is better than being dead."

A quick kick at the tin can sent it rolling, bouncing it deep into the flames, both those seated near the fire pausing to listen to the chaotic rhythm. Ellie spoke slowly, picking each word carefully, not for his sake, but hers. His words had slammed into her, and she felt so small and foolish for ever blaming Joel for what he did.

"I think I've learned that. The hard way, of course. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry about your son. You didn't deserve that."

A quick laugh escaped the weary man, and he scratched his finger into the dirt, tracing uneven circles as him mind uncoiled.

"Doesn't matter what I deserve. My boy didn't deserve to die in a ditch like a rabid dog." With a sweep of his had he erased the circles, burrowing swollen fingers into the dark earth, letting out a breath as the damp soil eased his aching knuckles. "And I'm guessing by that pause before we left town that Joel ain't your blood?"

She shook her head, and he gave another laugh, a trickle of his old joviality returning.

"Doesn't matter a damn bit, girl. Especially in a world like this. I know we never spoke before this whole shit-show, but I'd seen you two 'round town. Hell, the brother and niece of the 'mayors' of Jackson tend to get noticed. Ya'll are the popular folk. Shit, forgive my rambling. I'm just an old man unburdening himself. Anyway, the way he looks at you, the way he always walks with that peculiar gait of a man ready to jump in front of a bullet. It's all for you. I had that, once. He loves you like he needs air. He'd be dead without you."

"If you had that then how are you still here?" It was only after speaking that Ellie realized how accusatory her words sounded. She wrapped her arms around her legs and drew into herself, her face reddening as she waited for Wallace to lash out at her. There was no anger in his reply.

"I've asked myself that every day. Maybe I'm just too scared to do it - to end it all - but I'd like to think I'm trying to do something to make my boy proud before I go. He wanted to change the world. I'm just doing it for him. And I'm thinking the world will be a slightly happier place if I get your old man back to you." He stood up, stretching his legs in the cooling night air. A weight had slid off his shoulders, and as his burden toppled off him he felt more alive than he had in years. Humor fully returned to his voice, and like a flick of a switch the carefree attitude she had been growing used to returned. He patted his stomach as he turned to her.

"That's why I ain't going anywhere till you get your pa back. Like the old poem goes, 'but I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep'."

A shot rang out, and the world seemed to slow to a sickly crawl. Ellie could almost see the bullet streaking through the leaves. The horses bucked in fear, hooves inching off the ground as time crawled by, frantically pulling at their reigns. The round slammed into the back of Wallace's neck, tearing into the flesh and boring a hole through his throat to the other side. He still had a smile on his face as he fell forwards, drops of blood glinting in the firelight as they arced gracefully towards the ground.

* * *

"Did I ever show you this nice blade I found in that cabin way back near Jackson?"

Harmless shook his head, a slight annoyance itching at his mind. This man had found a way to alternate between saying both too much and too little. Caleb rummaged around in his pack, before pulling out a switchblade. With a flick of his wrist the blade slid free, gleaming in the moonlight. The man eyed it approvingly, before collapsing it and shoving it in his pocket. They had wandered out maybe ten minutes from the camp, with Caleb squatting down in a bush to relieve himself. The business concluded they had begun a lazy trek back to the fire. The smaller man hadn't stopped talking the entire time.

"Can you believe someone would leave something like that just sitting there?"

Before Harmless could tell him to shut up they heard the sound of a gunshot, and without another word both took off back towards camp.

* * *

She threw herself forwards, one small hand catching his head before it fell into the fire. With her other hand she drew her pistol, snapping off several shots into the encroaching darkness. She heard the sound of crashing leaves in front of her, and fired at the source of the noise. A cry of pain echoed out, before another shot lanced out from her right, silencing the lone man mid scream. Harmless and Caleb materialized in the trees, the quiet man pulling the bolt of his rifle back, chambering another round. He stalked into the bushes without a word as Caleb's eyes darted from tree to tree, the man looking for any sign of more attackers. A tense moment passed, but the only sounds they could hear were the slight rustling of trees and the horrible gurgling of their stricken companion.

Ellie turned her attention to the dying man, tossing the pistol to the dirt as she cradled his head in her lap. Blood poured out of his neck, and his arms and legs kicked and clawed into the dirt. His eyes were filled with dread, and all Ellie could bring herself to do was hold him, watching as his mouth clacked open again and again, trying to both form words and breath. The ragged hole twitched and pulsed at each attempt of his lungs to take in more air, and the gurgling deepened as he choked on his own blood. His hand shot up, gripping her slender shoulder, the fingers clinging to her as hard as he was clinging to life. She winced as his nails broke her skin, but kept a firm grasp of his head, feeling her legs and forearms soak in his hot blood. The pain eased in her shoulder, and she looked to his hand just in time to see it slacken its grip and fall down. A sickening sense of finality took hold of her, and she stared at the unmoving hand for several agonizing minutes, knowing and dreading what she would see when she looked into his eyes again. Inch by inch she slowly traced her gaze up the arm, across his shoulder and up his neck, screwing her eyes shut as the fatal wound came into view. When she reopened them his face was in full view. His eyes were cold and lifeless, staring up in mute horror at the stars that still watched down on them from far above. Crimson trickled from his mouth; in his last moments he had bitten the tip of his tongue off.

The overpowering smell of blood assaulted her senses, and Ellie felt her stomach heave as she pushed the corpse off her, standing up on numb legs and stumbling to the nearest tree. With a weak moan the contents of her stomach left her, and after several deep retches her legs gave out, sending her crashing to the forest floor. Her forehead rested on her arm as she struggled to breath, and with a repulsive realization she peeled her head up, feeling the dead man's blood caked across her scalp. Her shoulder throbbed worse than when he had grabbed it, and she dragged herself away, feeling the dirt stick and cling to the gore that covered her.

A boot crunched down in front of her, and an arm carefully wormed underneath her shuddering form, lifting her up to her knees. Harmless peered at her, and she could only meet his gaze for an instant before looking away. His voice was even and smooth, the words falling from his lips seemingly at their own leisurely pace. They didn't seem to hold an ounce of stress from the encounter.

"Are you alright?"

"Do I look alright?"

"You're covered in another person's blood. I don't think alright is even an outlier."

She waved a stained hand towards the small pond at the edge of camp, her words coming in breathless hiccups.

"Water. Take me to the water."

He nodded and hoisted her up, helping her walk with faltering steps towards the pond. The water lapped at their feet with each step and she pushed away from her guide, taking a few hesitant strides deeper, feeling the liquid swirl around her ankles and fill her shoes, before allowing herself to collapse with a splash. She shimmied deeper into the pond, seeing the moonlight shine on the miniature waves her motion created. With an almost neurotic compulsion she began to strip off her clothes, tearing at her garments until they floated besides her, blood tracing off them like oil on the water. The temperature was cool and soothing against her skin, and she cupped her hands, dunking it into the pond before pouring it over her head, feeling the clear liquid trace and wind through her dirty hair.

Caleb walked over, words catching in his throat as he saw cream shoulders bobbing above the water in the faint light, and small fingers running through red hair, aimlessly scrubbing.

"Go check for anyone else out there."

Harmless' voice snapped him back to reality and he stared at the man, his expression uncomprehending.

"What?"

"I said go check for anyone else. Now."

The scarred man couldn't quite place it, but there was an unspoken threat of great violence in the man's voice. With a final gaze at the young girl he gave a quick nod, before turning around and creeping into the forest, his scar burning pink. She heard his footsteps disappear, and dipped her arms back into the water.

"How are you not afraid?"

Ellie's voice was meek, and behind her Harmless arched an eyebrow at her question.

"Who says I'm not?"

She turned around suddenly, and he looked up to the sky. Jailbait wasn't his thing. She saw his eye movement, and sunk deeper into the black pool, letting the water tickle at her throat. She had forgotten her state of undress. A small pang of embarrassment coursed through her, and she moved a strand of soaked hair out of her eyes.

"It's okay. I'm decent. And I say you're not."

He lowered his eyes, and saw her staring at him, water up to her chin, body hidden by the silvered reflection of the moon on the surface of the pond, loose strands of hair floating on top of the water like questing tendrils.

"Well you're wrong. I was."

She blew small bubbles in the water, her eyes peering down to watch them pop in and out of existence. But for once he had a question for her.

"Did it bother you seeing him die?"

The bubbles stopped and she let more water trickle down her hair before answering. Confusion melded with her words - she felt there was so much more to his question than he was letting on.

"No. Yes. I mean, I'm used to death. What bothers me is that I'm so fucking used to it."

He stood up, searching one of the horse's bags, eventually pulling out a frayed towel. He balled it up and tossed it to the water's edge before bending down and looking her in the eyes again. His gaze was more intense than usual, and it transfixed her.

"Good."

Without another word he spun on his heel and left her alone. Ellie scrubbed at herself and her clothes for some time, wringing out every drop of blood from her outfit and every bit of dirt from her body. After that she simply relaxed into the water, mentally parting with the kindhearted man who had died so suddenly and violently. She felt a mixture of guilt and loss at his passing. Making camp there was her call, and someone else had paid the price; someone who had volunteered to help a wreck of a girl he hadn't ever spoken to. At that moment every bit of her hoped he that wherever Wallace was, he had found his son.

Hours passed before she slipped out of the water, wrapping the towel around her slender frame. She dried off slowly, letting the roughness of the towel scratch her skin raw. With a shiver she pulled on the damp clothes, feeling the fabrics stick and suck to her skin. She hadn't noticed while she cleaned, but the body of their former companion had been dragged away, the specks of blood hidden with hastily kicked dirt. She sat down heavily next to the fire, feeling her skin prickle at the heat. Her remaining companions were at the edge of the camp, with the scarred one sprawled out, dead asleep, and the quiet one scanning the surroundings like a guard dog. Like she had right before Wallace's death, she stared into the fire, letting her mind briefly slip away.

"So what do you want to do?"

Harmless' voice snapped her back to the present, and she turned her head to him. He was watching her, a finger unconsciously tracing up and down the trigger-guard of his hunting rifle as he took in her exhausted form. She looked around the camp with a weary detachment. The emotions that bubbled underneath the surface of her mind screamed to leave; a friend had died here and it was time to go. The rational part of her mind said that where there's one bandit there's bound to be more, and gunshots are loud. At least for once what she wanted to do and what she should do synced up. It was a small mercy.

She stood up, ignoring the hunger pains in her stomach and the chills running up and down her spine. With effort she faked a confidence she didn't have, and said what she thought Joel would have said.

"We keep moving."

* * *

 _A day later_

Evening claimed the sky, deep hues of gold and purple saturating the sky as the sun dipped below the horizon. The city loomed at them, an imposing figure in the distance. Denver had been shattered by the infection, and the Q.Z. consisted of only a few select parts of the once vibrant city. From atop a ruined building Ellie scanned the city, a borrowed pair of binoculars pressed to her eyes. To one side of the landscape sat the airport, or at least that's what the tattered map she had spread in front of her called it, walled off and aloof from the rest of the city. Towers poked up from the walls, and much like in Jackson she could see daggers of light tracing across barren ground. Vehicles buzzed in and out of the main gate, at that great distance looking like nothing more than ants - some entering, some leaving down a wide road, trundling along towards the city proper.

"How'll we get in?" Caleb squatted behind her, squinting at the hazy buildings, vainly attempting to take in as much as he could of the city. There was no answer from the girl, and he met eyes with Harmless, the man giving another of his patented long shrugs before turning away. A pang of anxiety flared through the young man, his scar burning pink as blood rushed from his quickly beating heart. He didn't like feeling excluded. Everyone always pushed him aside when they saw his face. He took a few steps back from the two huddled figures, pacing in a small circle, his hand questing into his pocket for his newest trophy. Fingers wrapped around cool metal, and he pulled out the pocket knife, letting the blade slide free before tossing it from hand to hand in lazy arcs. A bird squawked and fluttered nearby, causing the man to flinch, botching the catch and feeling a quick sting as a finger began to bleed. Swearing to himself he squeezed a few drops out, watching them roll down his digit before dropping to the dry ground below. With a muttered curse he closed the knife, slipping it away.

"You alright?"

He turned at the sound of Ellie's voice, seeing her eye his bleeding finger. A self-conscious smile crawled across his face and he pressed the finger into the crook of his arm, wedging it between bicep and armpit.

"Oh, yeah. Fine. I just nicked myself. So…how'll we get in?"

She pushed away from the ground, folding the map up and putting it in her pocket, before handing him the binoculars. He raised them to his eyes, and felt her hands wrap around his, guiding them to a few select spots of the city. He held his breath as her fingers almost laced with his.

"The walls are the most uneven there. And where there's a height difference like that, there's probably tunnels. I'd be willing to bet that's how smugglers get out of the city. And if they have a way out, we have a fucking way in."

She removed her hands from his, and felt Harmless step in to grab the binoculars, taking his turn to scan the city. Caleb raised his finger to his mouth, sucking the last of the unscabbed blood from his wound.

"How do you know all that?"

Ellie had begun to walk towards the stairwell, stopping as she reached the dark threshold, turning back to look at him with a mix of amusement and sadness.

"I learned from the best. Let's go."

She disappeared into the decrepit building, with her two companions quickly following her.

* * *

 **A/N:**

Hello everyone, like always I hope you enjoyed the chapter! For whatever reason I've been having a horrible case of writer's block this past week, so I humbly ask that if you've been liking what I've wrote so far and have the time to do so, to let me know. I'm certainly not about to start holding my story hostage for reviews, but I know the few comments I've gotten so far have been incredibly motivating and wonderful to read, and I absolutely hate staring at unfinished chapters and not knowing what or how to write them. Anyways that's my quick plea, next chapter will be up next week, and hopefully I'll be able to push through my writer's block to stay on the once a week schedule I've been keeping!


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:**

Sorry for the slightly delayed update. The website was glitching out on me pretty bad yesterday, but everything seems to be in order now. With that apology out of the way, I want to thank everyone who's reviewed so far! You guys certainly helped to motivate me to get words on the page, and I appreciate it greatly! I figured I'd also use this section to communicate with you guys, and respond to the comments I've gotten.

So to Blackbird - yeah, there was really no way to avoid telegraphing the fact that he was going to die. I wasn't trying to go for a quick, forced emotional connection, but rather to show that in her pursuit to get Joel back lives will be ruined almost indiscriminately. As far as that goes, like she said in the last chapter, she learned from the best.

To the guest who said it was like true grit - I've actually never seen that movie, but a quick google search certainly shows me some similarities. But I'm OK with that comparison for the fact that it's got the man, the myth the legend Jeff bridges in it.

Well, that wraps up my spiel, so with everything being said, enjoy the chapter, and keep the comments coming!

* * *

Sunlight burned behind closed eyelids, and Joel cracked his eyes open, the world assaulting his senses in an ecstasy of sight and smell. A sharp headache rolled through his mind with each beat of his heart, and he rubbed his temples as he allowed his eyes to adjust. He was in a field surrounded by thick woods, the terrain gently rolling away into hills in all directions. The tall grass pillowed beneath his form was a vibrant green, with pockmarks of brilliant yellows and oranges from wild flowers scattered across the ground. A gentle breeze swirled around him, carrying the sickly-sweet smells of a warm summer day. He pushed off the ground, standing on unsteady legs, slowly casting his gaze around. The land looked both familiar and foreign, and a slight confusion entered his mind. There was a rustle of sound on the wind, and his head snapped around, seeing a flash of ruddy hair bobbing over the crest of a hill, the locks barely visible through the heavy tree canopies.

"Ellie?" His voice rang out, but whoever it was didn't turn back or acknowledge his call. He began to move out after the figure, feeling the grass lick at his boots as he slogged through it. Each step brought the nostalgic smell of fresh cut grass, and he breathed it in as he began to jog towards the tree line. Bird calls echoed out, and the buzzing of cicadas was an almost impossibly loud drone. Though life could be heard all around not a single trace of movement could be seen, and something simply felt off.

Slightly panting from exertion he reached the trees, and all sound dropped away. He spared a glance behind him, a sharp pang of fear spiking through him as he took in an endless forest, with no sign of the verdant field he had just been in. With a louder voice he called out the girl's name once more, resuming his jog up the hill, weaving between thick, ancient tree trunks. A dead silence was the only response, and as he crested the hill he looked around, fervently hoping to see another splash of a ponytail amongst the foliage. _There._ The red was far below him, trekking down into the valley of the hill he stood on and the next one. Joel set out at a faster pace, moving as quickly as he could without losing his footing. Roots sprang up in a frenzied crisscross, each one seeming to snap at his feet hungrily as he hurdled over them. Despite his best efforts his foot caught on something, and he tumbled down the hill, bouncing over hard packed ground and yet more unforgiving roots and branches.

With a final, painful impact the air was driven from his lungs, and he rolled to a stop, his face in the dirt. A sharp gust of wind slid down his back like a scalpel, and a sudden chill seemed to seize his limbs. The ground fractured and broke as he rose, a thin layer of ice forming a spider's web of cracks as he pushed away. The wind whipped past him again, and some small part of his mind cowered at the fact that there was still no hint of sound, the silence now dangerously pressing in on him like a malevolent crowd.

"Ellie?!" There was no point trying to hide the fear that mingled with his words, and with his breath fogging before him he chased after his little girl, this time running as fast as he could. He could still see her weaving between trees, moving impossibly fast, appearing to glide over the ground instead of walk upon it. His lungs stung with every frigid breath as he pounded forwards, but he pushed on, a single-minded drive compelling his limbs to move faster and faster.

Little by little he closed the distance, and his spirits rose with each passing second. Then he heard it, the all pervading silence finally shattering with a distinct, horrible sound carrying itself on a dead wind behind him - violent screams mixed with a feral, predatory clicking. Once more he risked a glance over his shoulder, and adrenaline burnt through his body as three clickers carved a path straight towards him. Apparently Ellie had heard them too, because she stopped her advance, wheeling around to face the threats. He kept running towards her, hearing the infected quickly gaining ground, intent to make it to her before they did. He saw her try to bring her rifle to bear, the long barrel getting tangled in the straps of her backpack. Without thought he halted his run, turning to face the charging beasts, waving his arms to draw them to him. They closed the gap in second and he closed his eyes, expecting to feel rotten teeth carve into his throat at any moment. All he felt was the rush of air as the monsters passed him by, and he could only turn and watch as they closed on Ellie. With a final tug she freed her rifle, and with one trigger pull dropped the first clicker. In a blur of motion she chambered another round, the second bullet pulping another deformed head. Again her hands flashed into motion, and a final round barked out, the third infected crashing to the floor, letting out a final screech before expiring.

He blinked in surprise. She had been a good shot, but that was beyond anything he had ever seen. He jogged towards her as she crept towards the bodies, her rifle held at the ready, eyes switching from corpse to corpse. She didn't even seem to notice him.

"Ellie - baby-girl." Her name was panted out, and he shook his head in disbelief. "Where in the hell'd you learn to do that?" Pride shone out in his words, but his nervous smile faltered as she refused to acknowledge him. They were face to face, and he reached out a hand to grab hers when she froze, her eyes darting from side to side. There was no sound, and there was no one else around, but his precious girl jerked and stumbled, life leaving her eyes as the back of her head caved in from an invisible bullet.

Like a pane of glass Joel's world shattered, and he reached out to grab her, pulling her frail body to his. He fell with her, and they sank down to their knees, her body slack against his shaking form. There was no noise he could make to convey the pain he felt, and all he could do was let out a ragged breath of disbelief, wrapping one arm around her back, and the other moving to cradle her head. His fingers brushed against the ruined mess of her hair, and he let out a silent scream, feeling the soft locks mixed with a disgusting wetness and chips of shattered bone. Images flashed through his mind and his body gave out, the two of them crashing to the ground with his weight pressing down on her. He refused to look at his baby-girl, not able to accept the image in front of him. Her hair had been so soft, and he remembered the countless times he'd playfully ruffle it, knowing how much she hated to admit that she loved it. He began to hyperventilate, the soft scents of her clothes filling his nose and his mind with each panicked breath. He couldn't smell the blood of the girl who he considered his adoptive daughter, or the decaying stench of the clickers. He could only smell the old her - the familiar scent that lingered in their house after she had cooked breakfast, the smell that permeated her room after one of her inordinately long baths, even the heavy, tired smell that clung to her after a day spent out in the woods hunting.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he cried. The sobs jerked his body violently, his muscles unused to the sensations. He felt his tears staining her shoulder, each drop of burning water landing on her ragged jacket, the fabric hungrily lapping up the moisture. Time slipped away from him as he clung to the body, only eventually ripping himself away after his chest ached with every sob and his eyes had nothing left to give. Slowly he unwrapped his arms from her limp body, sitting up and looking at her face with cloying finality. Her eyes were shut, a strange semblance of peace across her youthful features, and he reached out a bloodstained finger to trace down her face, one last time. His finger touched her cold cheek, and time froze as her eyes flung open, her voice coming out in a distorted hiss.

"Why did you leave me?"

He screamed, and woke up.

* * *

There were no bright lights when Joel opened his eyes again, and reality rushed back to him with a terrifying charge. Every inch of skin and bone seemed to ache, and he shot upright, a mumbled scream echoing out in sympathy to his dream. He found himself on a concrete floor, the solid, grey mass extending almost seamlessly up to four walls and a roof, the space confining and isolating except for a heavy metal door. A threadbare blanket covered him, and he shivered against the chill in the room as he flung it away. A small plastic stool was nearby, along with a battered metal bucket. The room stank of urine, and he pushed himself up to a sitting position, leaning back against one of the walls, shaking the last trapping of sleep from his mind. Like a puzzle the pieces of the last few days fell into position in his mind, memories of how he ended up caged like an animal flickering through his mind like a slideshow.

He remembered waking up in the helicopter, secured to a stretcher by bands that bit into his flesh, the unsympathetic faces of soldiers glancing down at him as he twisted against his restraints. He had screamed and swore at them, his voice taking on a strange timber as the pain of his leg bit deep into his mind. The men hadn't responded, one simply reaching into a pouch and pulling out a small syringe, the needled roughly being jabbed into a vein on his arm, sending his world spinning away from him yet again. The next few memories were murky after that. He had vague recollections of a hospital; the darkness of the helicopter dropping away to a harsh, antiseptic white, the beeping of an EKG machine sounding out at a steady rate, grating against his mind. Doctors had looked down on him like vultures, poking and prodding every appendage with detached, morbid curiosity. He remembered being placed on a stretcher and being rolled down long corridors, the walls twisting and dancing as the drugs coursed through his body, the faint voice of a doctor confirming a room was prepped for surgery being the last sounds to reach him. Next thing he knew he was tossed into his current cell, seemingly being forgotten about save for two small meals slide through a small metal hatch on the metal door each day.

Time had lost its meaning in his prison; his days, and he had no idea how many that was, were spent drifting in and out of nightmare ridden sleep and worrying about Ellie. Frustration welled up in him, and he dragged himself towards the heavy steel door, pressing his knuckles against its face. His baby-girl was out there without him. He hopped with every fiber of his being that she was safe. Tommy would take care of her. Unbidden, thoughts of the most recent nightmare etched through his mind, and he winced as his body seized up from the stress. Her skin had felt like wet clay to his fingertips, and a deep nausea planted itself in his stomach, every surface suddenly feeling like that disgusting texture. Without thought his fist slammed into the door, pain running through his hand from the impact. Again and again he rained blows against the door, pounding it with silent rage, his eyes screwed tightly shut as he tried to will the image of her lifeless face from his mind. A strange wetness on his fingers made him pause, and he opened his eyes to take in the ruined state of his hand. The knuckles were bloody, splotches of crimson on the door from where his fist had impacted. Mind numbing pain coursed up his arm, and he curled his hand to his chest, staring at the Rorschach like imprints of blood on metal.

The sound of sliding metal echoed into the chamber, and the door swung open, a long shadow of a solider draping over him. He heard the sound of safeties flipping off, and the barrel of a rifle was pressed against the top of his head. The man's voice was hard, not a trace of concern being shown to Joel's bloody condition. This kind of behavior was nothing new, and the prison guard had long ago hardened his heart to the suffering of those unlucky enough to wind up in the cells.

"No sudden movements. Someone wants to talk to you." The soldier turned and muttered to a few of his companions, and hands gripped Joel's shoulders, hauling him up and dropping him in a wheelchair, handcuffing him to the metal armrests for good measure. A black bag was roughly pulled over his head, and the world only shown in through small patches of light. He was rolled down several hallways, turns being taken seeming at random, the screeching sound of an unlubricated wheel echoing against his ears. Another heavy door was opened, and he was bustled inside. The tip of his nose was worn raw as the bag was ripped off, his eyes taking in a new, unadorned room. The only furniture was a simple metal table, drilled into the floor, with a lightly padded chair neatly on the other side. The soldiers stepped away, a final order being barked at him.

"Don't even try to move from the wheelchair. Someone will be in shortly. You're being watched."

With that the door slammed shut, the heavy sounds of locks being thrown seeming to echo around the hard walls. Joel looked around, spotting the camera tucked into the corner of the roof, sparing it a hate filled glare before lowering his eyes to the table. Seconds turned to minutes, and minutes turned to hours, with no sign of anyone or anything to break the tedium.

"Trying to make me sweat?" His voice was weaker than he had hoped, the anger he felt simply not enough to galvanize his vocal cords into producing anything more than a hoarse mumble. Despite the lack of volume in his question whoever was monitoring him had heard, the door on the other side of the room promptly opening, a man in unadorned fatigues striding into the chamber and taking a seat before him. A sharp nose defined his features, his eyes slightly sunken, small scars adorning each side of his chin. He had a file in his hands, and with seemingly great care placed it upon the table, tapping it to ensure the pages were well ordered as the door behind him swung shut. He opened the manila folder, gently leafing through pages, angling it just enough so that Joel couldn't see what was on it. When the man finally spoke his voice was even and collected.

"It says here you've had quite the interesting life." The military figure spared a quick glance at Joel as he gestured towards the pages, his eyes tracing up one arm, across his face, then down the other, an almost clinical air about him.

"No it doesn't. It doesn't say shit about me. You'd have used my name otherwise." He didn't have to be able to talk loud or posture to let this new man know he wasn't falling for any tricks.

"Well fuck it then." The man laughed, flipping the folder around so Joel could see the blank pages he had been studying. "Some people actually fall for that. So for starters, what is your name?" A long pause filled the room, and the man gave Joel a pained smile before continuing. "Look, I get it, you don't want to talk. Quite the noble sense of obligation to your friends you've got. But they," he pointed to the camera, "are going to put you in a world of hurt for every question you don't pipe up for. By all means hold out, you'll break eventually, but why lose a fingernail or a tooth over your name?"

The man leaned back in the chair, studying his captive more intently. Joel ground his teeth together, the pain in his hand growing worse.

"Joel." It wasn't defeat, it was simple self preservation. He'd give them an inch, but they'd only get a mile over his dead body. The man gave him a single, slow nod of appreciation, jotting the name down in the file with quick stokes of a pen. The first question was always both the easiest and the hardest.

"Alright Joel, you can call me Jackson."

The prisoner stiffened, a pit of indignation festering in his stomach. This man must take him for a fool.

"How about you cut with the psychological bullshit. The name of the town ain't no secret, and you're not getting in my head with that little 'coincidence' of yours."

Jackson held up his hands, another smile twitching at his features. He adjusted the cuffs on his uniform, fingers scratching gently at the flesh of his wrists before lacing together, the tips forming a miniature steeple.

"Alright, alright. I think I underestimated you. But for simplicities sake that's what you can call me."

Joel's eyes narrowed and he stretched his arms as much as the cuffs would let him, doing his best not to let his face twitch from the sharp pain of moving his hand.

"The hell you want then, _Jackson_?"

His captor shrugged, moving his fingers so each digit was tightly pressed against its cousin on his opposite hand. Slow movements dropped his chin to rest on his fingertips, and a quick tongue darted out to lick at his lips as he thought about how much to tell.

"I want what you want. Food, electricity, safety-" he raised a finger at each point, counting them off as he spoke, his head still resting on the tips of the unused fingers, "you want it, and you have it. I want it, and I plan on taking it."

"Like hell. The town's a damn fortress."

Joel was making sure to not mention where it was they got the power from. The dam was far removed from the town, and could easily go unnoticed by the prying eyes of the military. The man gave a slow shrug, twirling the pen between fingers.

"Looks like it from what I've heard. But every fortress has its weak spots. More often enough, it's the people that break before the walls do. And we've gotten very good at making people break."

Joel relaxed, if only slightly. Knowing men like this - men who thought they had all the cards and a dozen extra up their sleeve just in case - if he had known about the dam he'd have thrown it in his face by now, all with smiles and an even temperament just to make it sting. There was a shade more confidence in his voice.

"We've done a pretty good job of surviving so far. The town's tough."

Jackson's eyes dropped down to the paper, re-reading the few notes he had jotted down, nodding along as Joel spoke. Both men were now fully committed to the verbal game of cat-and-mouse; seeing what riled the other, what bolstered the other, and what, if any, weak points they had.

"You've survived out there, yes. But nobody," he tapped at the table with the pen, each sound seeming to echo in the chamber, "survives here."

The muscles in Joel's jaws bunched up, a great indignation punctuating his words.

"If ya'll are just planning on killing me why would I tell you a damn thing?"

"Because there are plenty of boys in here who think what they're doing is just and right in the name of survival and this once great nation, and will not hesitate to deliver anything less than a continuous world of hurt on you until you break."

Joel sat in stunned silence, the insanity of the 'civilized' quarantine zones taking him by surprise after the few years away. Finally he found his voice. It was a harsh whisper, filled with condemnation.

"Do you think what you're doing is right?"

The man cocked his head at Joel's question, tapping the pen against his lips before answering.

"And here I thought I was the one doing the interrogating. You were honest with me, so I'll be honest with you. I don't think there is a right. And I think the only wrong is dying. So if taking your city keeps us alive, then it's clearly not the wrong answer."

Joel thought about the man's answer. It was a sick form of social realpolitik, and exactly the same mindset Joel had had years ago, when he was a very different man with a very different outlook on life. If there was ever any doubt about if he would divulge anything, that ended it.

"I ain't helping you do it."

His captor set the pen down, reclining as much as the chair would let him, eyes dipping into a shadow so all the chained man could see was his mouth.

"Helping who, Joel? You make it sound like it's just for me. Your town is nothing but a backwater with maybe a thousand pathetic people. I hope you realize there are thousands of people starving and dying in this Q.Z. Innocent, helpless people. Hell they're your fellow countrymen – your fellow Americans. You are an American, aren't you? Texan too, if that accent is anything to go by."

The question puzzled Joel, the restrained man deciding Jackson was just needling at him, trying to get under his skin and into his head by any convoluted means necessary. He answered with a question to his question.

"Are you?"

Jackson looked around like the answer was written on the walls.

"Of course I am."

There was no pause, and no fear in Joel's voice.

"Then you bet your ass I ain't."

The military man leaned forwards quickly, a strange gaze of entertainment alight in his eyes. He was enjoying this.

"I should have known. Your kind has no damn sense of priority anymore. Is that it? Have you truly lost your humanity?"

Joel chose silence as his answer, staring the man down. Jackson closed the file, tucking the pen into the sheets of paper before sliding it off to the side, lacing his hands in front of him on the table once again.

"You know, I do hold out hope that we can reach an accord. Make the process of getting what we want a bit easier for your people."

The uniformed man didn't know where it came from, but a quick bout of laughter struck Joel, each laugh a bitter, sarcastic cough.

"An accord? A deal? Do you honestly expect me to believe that? I know your type. The best you'd give them is a bullet to the head. I bet you've already planned out where to put the mass graves."

The man stood up to leave, making a quick gesture at the camera. He strode towards his door, the metal sliding away as he reached it. Behind the wheelchair the other door opened, and Joel felt a pair of hands begin to drag him away, the bag again being pulled over his head. He heard Jackson speak once more, a mocking, sing-song tone coating his words.

"Not yet, but we're open to suggestions."

* * *

Moonlight faded in and out in the midnight air, the pale orb perched high above being periodically blotted out by migrating clouds. With a tired sigh Ellie pushed herself against the rusted metal of an overturned bus, allowing her body a brief moment of exhaustion, feeling the metal catch and bite at her backpack as she slid down to a crouch. Her calves and feet throbbed, and with a grimace she brushed sweat coated hair out of her eyes as she brought a canteen up to her lips. The water was disgustingly warm and tepid to her lips, but she drank it anyways, feeling the grit and dust that coated her parched throat wash away. As she drank her mind replayed the day's events, a slight haze of fatigue tinting her memories.

They had left the horses and slowly threaded through the outskirts of Denver, crawling through the parts the military had long ago abandoned. The city had slipped quickly into decay, with husks of buildings dotted among the broken streets, and a deathly, foreboding quiet permeating the land. She had guided them closer and closer to the tall, imposing walls of the quarantine zone, skirting from building to building, street to street, desperately trying to avoid detection by any prying eyes. It had been a far cry from the harrowing escape from Boston years ago; either this time they had been lucky or the metropolitan graveyard surrounding the Q.Z. was truly desolate, with not another soul, living or infected, to be seen the entire trek. After hours of cautious movement the weary band of rescuers had found themselves amongst the deep trenches and rubble at the foot of the wall, and she had split the group up to cover more ground in search of a hidden entrance. Harmless had been sent north and Caleb south, leaving a chunk of land half a mile wide to scour by herself. The job had been agonizing, every shadowed nook and cranny needing to be explored and probed, all while dodging the sweeping spotlights and sparse patrols of the military. Every promising lead and tunnel had turned into a dead end, and it was mentally agonizing to see every opportunity dissipate into nothing more than wasted time. The worn girl had searched every crevice she could, and with a defeated sigh had trekked back to the secluded crater she had picked as a meeting spot. Minutes ticked by slowly, and she fought her body's natural impulse to close its eyes and rest. There was a gentle breeze on the night air, and as she reclined against the unforgiving metal her eyelids dropped even further as she lost her battle and sank into the beginnings of sleep.

"Any luck?"

Hushed tones pulled her from the creeping half-slumber, and she jerked her head around to see Caleb crouching by one of the rotten tires, one finger tracing up and down the pockmarked rubber as he took in her hunched form. Ellie mentally scolded herself; she hadn't even heard her companion approach. With a slow breath she stifled the fear and adrenaline that spiked through her, pushing back up against the underside of the bus, and patted the dusty ground at her side as he shuffled over. His eyes gave a quick, final glance behind him as he towered over her in the twilight.

"Nada. Not a single fucking thing. What about you?"

One of her small fists bounced off her leg with each word, punctuating her failure. He shook his head, his shoulders sagging a bit, and dropped his pack at his feet, kicking it out of his way as he sat down with a groan. He had been hoping to bring back better news for her.

"Nothing. Just burnt out cars, gnawed bones, and mud. This place isn't going to win any points for beauty. You look like shit, by the way."

A silent laugh escaped her as she passed him the half-empty canteen.

"Just what a girl likes to hear in a situation like this."

Though it was impossible for her to see in the darkness Caleb blushed, scratching at the missing chunk of his ear before taking a quick sip of the water.

"I didn't mean it like that. It's just that…" he shifted his weight, his anxiety flaring up again as he tried to change the subject, "where'd you get that scar?"

Ellie stiffened, her hand instinctively curling around the bite mark hidden by her jacket. He hadn't seen it, had he? She made sure her voice didn't betray her fear. All the times Joel had told her never to let anyone see her mark flashed through her mind.

"Which scar? I've got a few good ones."

The man tapped his eyebrow before pointing at hers, and she relaxed, unconsciously tracing a finger up and down the smooth patch of scar-tissue he pointed to.

"This? It's a long story. I've had it for years though." It wasn't a lie. The young girl had so many scars, and so many memories of how she got them that they began to swirl together and merge into one single tapestry of suffering. If she tried hard she was sure she could remember, but at the moment she didn't, and there was no reason to dreg up painful memories then and there. They why's and how's of her scars didn't matter to her anymore, save for one of them. It only mattered that she was still alive from them.

"Oh." A half-awkward silence filled in again as he searched for words to say, switching topics yet again. "So I know it might seem sort of odd to ask so long into this whole adventure, but what is it about Joel that's got you, well, us, charging into a Q.Z. for?"

A long yawn escaped her mouth, and she stretched out as she thought about his question.

"You mean like, why do I care so much?"

"Yeah." He turned away from her as she continued to form a response, hiding how happy he was that someone was actually taking the time to talk with him and not just shut him up.

"In this world everybody seems to survive for themselves. They go to sleep and wake up and struggle surviving through the day just to do it all fucking over again. He gives me a reason to live besides myself, besides just existing. Getting up every morning is nice and all, y'know, but getting up because you know someone wants you up, is waiting to see you and talk to you and laugh with you and care about you – I guess he cares about me, anyways – is just something I never thought I'd have. It's still something I kind of think I don't deserve, sometimes. That won't stop me from running into the shittiest places I can find to keep it."

Caleb gave a slight chuckle of incomprehension, looking over at her to see the girl curled into herself, fingers scratching at a small rip in her pants.

"What makes you think you don't deserve it?"

Chewed nails kept picking at the small hole, and she tilted her head back against the bus, feeling the chill of the metal soak into her scalp.

"Shit. After all the people I've killed, all the things I've done. I don't know, it just seems so…" her voice trailed off, and she bit her lip while she searched for words. "Look at it this way – you get so used to that struggle, that constant physical battle to survive, that as soon as that's taken away and you can actually be peaceful and happy you don't really know what to do with yourself. You get nervous for no reason – twitchy - like something is wrong, like something _has_ to be wrong, even though it couldn't be more right. The tiniest things set you off, make you flinch and panic and choke on an adrenaline rush. And it makes you think and makes you wonder that maybe…maybe you're just so messed up that you don't deserve to have something normal and peaceful like a quiet life. That you deserve a gun instead of a hug, and constant fear instead of comfort; that all you're good for is living a violent, short life."

"So what do you do when you think you need a gun instead of a hug?"

A wistful smile graced her features, and she momentarily wrapped her arms around herself, screwing her eyes closed as she imagined a familiar feeling she desperately longed for.

"I ask him to hug me. And he proves me wrong every single fucking time."

They both laughed, and he handed the canteen back to her, the metal reflecting the moonlight up above. She studied the dents and scratches before stowing it back in her pack. Caleb's eyes wandered around the surrounding area, and when they finally returned to Ellie he saw she was staring right at him. Her voice was focused and purposeful, the tone of reminiscence gone. There was something she needed to know.

"Alright, you had your turn for questions. Now it's mine. Why help me? What'd Tommy say to you to make you risk your life like this?"

Caleb's mouth opened and closed a few times, his mind swimming back to when Tommy had pulled him off a long and lonesome shift at the walls, promising him that if the group made it back, even without Joel, that he'd never be standing guard again. It was icing on the cake, but hadn't been remotely close to why he agreed.

"Good karma, I guess." A deep shrug of his shoulders accompanied his whispered statement. Her gaze didn't waver, and he fidgeted, cracking his knuckles as green eyes pried for more. "Look, I don't have anyone back in Jackson to even begin to call family, let alone friend." He caved to her silent probing, for once his body relaxing as he spoke. "Nobody sees past my scar. They know all the nasty ways it traces up my face and all the fucked up shades of red it can turn, but they don't know me. I guess that's just left its mark on me, and made me even weirder – even harder to know. So yeah, good karma. I figured, you know, maybe I help you out, and something in this shit-hole of a world will finally give me a break, and someone to care about me. Call it superstition."

Ellie looked down at her hands, seeing the multitude of miniature scars crisscrossing her fingers. Her voice had a modicum of wonder in it, as if what she was saying was just as new to her as it was to him.

"Scars make up who we are though. Maybe it's not a bad thing people can see it. They say 'hey world, I've been through some shit, just letting you know.' Trust me; scars people can't or won't see take so much longer to heal."

The pair was silent for some minutes, each mulling over her statement. For once there was no awkwardness in the air, and when he spoke it was with sincerity.

"You're too damn mature for a 17 year old."

She gave a slight smile, crossing one leg over the other as she stretched them out.

"Grow up fast or don't live long enough to grow up at all. And hey, you're not that much older than me by the look of you. Don't start trying to pull that wizened elder shit on me."

Caleb shrugged, conceding the point. He probably had a few years on her, but only a few.

"I just wish everyone else saw this," he gave a weary gesture towards his scar, the flesh pulling and slithering as he spoke, "the way you do."

"Well one person's a start, right?"

His head bobbed up and down

"A good start, for sure."

She smiled at him before looking away, and something compelled him to lean towards her, eyes half closed.

Her peripheral vision caught a flicker of motion, and she turned her head towards him, thinking at first he had simply zoned out and was slouching towards her. It took a second for the wheels in her mind to process the situation, and her eyes widened as she realized why he was leaning in, a quick burst of motion propelling her back and away, landing on her side with a thump and silent curse. She spoke quickly, one hand held up partially to ward him off, partially to apologize for the abruptness.

"Hey! Whoa there!" She tried her best not to shout, and his features fell at her rejection. Caleb seemed to retreat into himself, turning away from her and scrunching his shoulders together as he willed himself to be as small as possible, sickening embarrassment coursing through him. She sat back up, rubbing at her newly bruised hip before continuing. "I never know if it's obvious or what, but after this I'm guessing probably not. It's not that I'm some giant fucking tease or anything. It's just that I…well," she put her arms out in front of her, mimicking holding a bat, knocking an imaginary ball out of an imaginary park. "I just swing for the other team, if you catch my drift."

He poked his head around at her, still mentally retreating like a scorned puppy. The pained awkwardness had returned to his voice, and he recommenced his fidgeting.

"You swing for the other…what?"

She made the swinging motion once more, trying and failing to whistle at her made-up home run, naturally falling back on bad comedy to defuse the situation. He still simply stared at her, and she cleared her throat.

"The other team. Y'know, you say po-ta-toe, I say pu-tah-to…" her quiet voice trailed off, and Ellie glanced around before kicking at the dirt, "actually that's a horrible fucking example." She ran a hand through her hair, fixing her ponytail as she glanced at the dirt. "Look, we're into the same thing, dude."

His eyes widened as he his mind began to grasp what she meant, and incredulity mingled with his words.

"No shit?"

Ellie nodded, relaxing slightly as he gave a quick snort of relieved laughter. She never gave much thought to any kind of love life, and found it almost strange that someone couldn't or wouldn't believe she swung a different way from the norm. It was Caleb's turn to paw at his hair, and he stood up, taking a step away from her before turning back.

"Hey, I didn't know. I'm sorry."

The embarrassment had died down. As far as rejections went at least that one wasn't his fault.

"You're sorry about me being into girls?"

He waved his hands in front of him, eyes alight with apology. She wasn't making this easy.

"No - no, not that! I meant I'm sorry for making a move on you. Considering, well, the situation."

"It happens. The world keeps on spinning." She twirled her finger around to punctuate her statement. He wasn't the first boy to try something, and wouldn't be the last. For the most part she had gotten used to it. "Look, I'm not in the market for…well, that – but one more friend is always a good thing I guess, if you're game?"

Caleb seemed to tense up, searing for any sign of insincerity in her voice. Her words were tired and heavy, but there wasn't a trace of dishonesty. In her mind anyone who was willing to sign up for her suicide mission was at least worth a chance. A smile appeared on his features, and he gave a single nod.

"Yeah, friend sounds good to me."

A slight cough echoed out in the shadows of the bus, and the pair of youths turned to see Harmless observing them, his figured crouched down in the darkness. Ellie suddenly felt like she was in the spotlight, and figured the best way to ward off any unnecessary questions was to ask some of her own.

"How long have you been fucking standing there?"

A frown seemed to register on the man's face, there and gone in a millisecond, and he stood up, wiping dirty hands on his pants.

"Long enough." She opened her mouth to speak again, but he turned around, throwing his words over his shoulder as he beckoned them. "I've got a way in."

Without waiting to see if they followed he trudged away, the two young adults sharing a shrug before jogging after him.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:**

Hey there everyone. Sorry this chapter took longer than usual, life got very busy, and unfortunately a close friend of mine passed away earlier this week, so I had to take care of some things. Hopefully I'll be able to resume my usual pace of writing, but I'm actually going to take away my deadlines, and simply focus on posting the best chapters I can even if they take a little longer than usual. I really want to focus on quality, and having an arbitrary day where I have to post probably takes away from that. Anyways, all that aside I hope you continue to enjoy the story, and as always let me know what you think!

* * *

A ragged tear in the earth signaled the start of the tunnel. The group had silently followed Harmless, twisting and winding through mountains of rubble and puddles of stagnant water to reach his found prize. At first Ellie thought he had been playing a very poorly timed joke as he pointed at a rusted out shell of a car, a murmured "that's it" causing Caleb to give a quick bark of laughter before swearing under his breath, quickly noticing something she hadn't. Before she could voice any protest or question either of their sanities she noticed a small hole behind the decayed driver's seat, barely wide enough for either of the men she traveled with to fit through. Ellie locked eyes with Harmless, equal amounts gratitude and trepidation in her irises, before clicking on her flashlight, giving the entrance a quick sweep of the faint yellow light. The passage dropped out of sight into the earth, and as she walked closer to it she noticed small trickles of dry dirt cascaded down the walls. Coming to a stop before the maw she knelt down, sticking her head into the darkness, her nose involuntarily crinkling as a hastily muted sneeze echoed into the blackness. Her head throbbed as she craned her neck, twisting her gaze and the beam of light around to get the best view she could.

The tunnel was of dubious construction, a few heavily rusted sheets of metal supporting the walls at the bottom of the drop, and the smell of rot and dirt filled her senses. With no sign of a ladder or anything like it to climb down the passage dropped down several feet before twisting and bending out of sight, the slight waft of air leaking up from below noticeably colder and damper. She chewed her lip as she studied the ramshackle construction of the smuggler's tunnel, a small pit of anxiety lodging in her stomach at the prospect of entering. Her voice echoed into the shaft as she shouted a question back above ground to Harmless, an eerie chill running down her spine at the almost mocking tone her words adopted as they bounced deep into the tunnel's bowels.

"How deep did you go?"

The man crouched down onto his haunches, staring into the darkness past her bobbing ponytail, challenging it to dislodge its horrors at them. The cave remained still, and he stood once more, wiping the back of his hand across parched lips before answering.

"Deep enough. It drops down again around the bend. It's a tight fit, but we'll manage."

She let out a melancholic sigh before shaking her head and resigning her mind to the thought of descending down into the cold earth. With a grunt she pushed away, standing and dusting off the knees of her faded jeans as she brought everyone into a lose huddle. Caleb coughed next to her, and she turned to look at him. He cinched his backpack tight against himself, his knuckles white, a new anxiety settling down into his mind. His voice had a forced edge of humor in it, and he dug his heels into the dirt as he spoke.

"I ain't too good with small spaces. Spare a pep talk, brave leader?"

Small shoulders were thrown back, and her chest inflated as her mind searched for anything worth saying. Only one phrase seemed to accurately and honestly sum everything up. Speeches had never been her thing.

"Let's get this the fuck over with."

With forced confidence she began to stride towards the car, taking a single, long step before she felt Harmless unceremoniously yank on her backpack, the ground sliding under her shoes as he pulled her back into the huddle. With a gentle but firm grip he pulled the rifle out of her hands, lashing it to her backpack before speaking.

"A gun that big won't do much good somewhere that small. No room to move it or angle it, let alone fire it. Work with something smaller. Use your pistol."

She nodded, pulling out the battered weapon Tommy had given her. With a practiced burst of motion she checked the action, feeling the slide glide back as a round was chambered. A wry though wound through her mind, and as she studied the grooves and scratches on the pistol she hoped it truly was as lucky as the man claimed it was. A rush of air pulled her eyes up, and she saw Harmless striding towards the tunnel, a pistol of his own clutched in one hand. It was her turn to reach out, and though she didn't have the strength to pull his mass back, she managed to stop him dead in his tracks.

"No, I go first. I'm the shortest – it will be easiest for me, and if there's anything worth shooting down there you'll be able to shoot over me, where I can't exactly shoot over you. Like you said – work with something smaller. Got it?"

The large man cocked his head, and blinked at her. The way he had been silently looking after her ever since Wallace's death she expected some heroic self-sacrificing protest, but he nodded, and took a step back, gesturing towards the opening.

"When you're right, you're right. Lead the way."

Nothing dragged her back as she approached the foreboding hole once more, and she curled her fingers into the dirt around the entrance, the pistol clasped in her free hand, pointing down into the darkness just in case. Leaning back she attached the flashlight to the strap of her backpack, securing it tightly before clicking it on again, the light once more weakly illuminating their one path into the city. Without checking to see if the others were ready she took a last gulp of fresh air, and dropped into the gloom.

* * *

She landed with a thud, letting her feet and hips absorb the impact of the short fall. If she had tried to stand up the entrance of the tunnel would be just above her head, but instead she crouched, moving deeper into the earth to make room for the rest of her group. Dirt pattered onto her jacket as she leaned against one of the walls, the gentle trickle of the dislodging earth sounding like a hissing snake to her. The pistol remained pointed forwards, her finger around the trigger, ready for anything. She was determined not to let the weapon shake in her tight grip. As Ellie heard her compatriots drop down behind her she kept her eyes on the bend in front of her, a million gruesome possibilities of what was waiting below flashing through her head, each one leading to a more painful demise than the last. Maybe it would be a cave in that would slowly push the air out of their lungs until they suffocated one by one. Or maybe it would be an old booby-trap, with a deafening bullet or rusted spike of metal driving right through her quickly beating heart. _Or maybe you should focus,_ she thought, dragging her mind out of all the short and morbid permutations of her future, focusing only on her breathing and forcing her legs to take one crouched step after the other.

The bend in the tunnel drew near, and she hugged the wall as it turned sharply. A final, deep breath of still air readied her, and she slinked around the bend, making sure she led with her gun, half expecting a screaming nightmare to greet her around the earthen wall. Emptiness filled the passage, and she relaxed a fraction, continuing a slow advance, hearing the breathing and struggling of the men behind her as they forced themselves into the narrow twist. The tunnel gently angled down, and she stopped to glance at the dirt floor in front of her, the surface of the ground undisturbed by any footprints or signs of life. That slight reassurance seemed to lift a weight off her shoulders, and she began to move forwards purposefully, putting a bit of distance between herself and the others. The second drop beckoned her, and like before she craned over the side, allowing her eyes and the light to scan the area below. This drop was a little further down, the dirt giving way to ancient, chipped concrete. Whoever had created the tunnel had simply connected it with the sewer system, taking advantage of the vast catacombs of pre-cordyceps passageways. The men caught up to her, the tunnel proving much more restrictive for their larger frames, and they crowded around the drop, each pair of ears listening intently for any sign of danger. Minutes ticked by, with the only sound echoing up from below the muted roar of rushing water. Harmless was torn from his thoughts and his silent planning, his eyes snapping onto Ellie as he felt the girl run her hand under his, her fingers worming through the dirt, doing their best to wrap around his heavy paw.

After a few years of living with Joel body language had become something of her forte. In fact she was confident enough in her abilities to read emotionally stunted men that she was sure she could tell the difference between a happy rock and a miserable one. Though she had learned Harmless wasn't a man prone to quick accusations his eyes dropped their veiled guard, his gaze practically screaming out _what the fuck are you doing?_ She shrugged her shoulders as she continued to search his hand for a good grip.

"It's a bit of a drop down there. I could use a hand." She curled her fingers around his wrist, and as the man comprehended her request a smirk spread across her face, her voice taking on an odd pitch as she whispered, "y'know…literally." The words held back a tinge of laughter – time and time again she had been told it was in poor taste for her to laugh at her own jokes. It was a shame that she was usually the only one who found them funny.

His fingers repeated her movements, and both pairs of hands locked around their opposite's wrists, Ellie slowly sliding down into the hole, her legs dangling in the relatively open of air of the sewer as he leaned down, stretching his arm to let her close the distance to the floor as much as possible. It continued to surprise him how little she weighed. She cast her gaze around, taking in her new surroundings from the slightly high vantage point. It looked much the same as the sewers in Pittsburgh had, though it seemed like someone had taken a hammer to half the lights that were strung down the corridor, broken glass and dark shadows inter-spaced between weakly glowing bulbs. The room was a roughly rectangular shape, with a fast moving band of water cutting through the center, the quick current corralled by the high concrete floor and ancient safety fences that surrounded it on either side. Hallways branched out in each of the main compass directions, two jutting into pitch blackness, the other two continuing to run next to the artificial river, each one winding away from easy view down narrow hallways. She turned her eyes up, giving a quick nod to the men above her before letting go of the helping hand, dropping a few meters onto into the deserted room. Her pistol was drawn in a flash, a quick burst of adrenaline seizing her limbs as she waited for any sounds of unwanted company, her flashlight clicking off in a quick motion, her need to see less imperative than her need to not be seen. There was nothing, and she took a step back and away from the hole overhead, settling into one of the shadowed hallways as Caleb was lifted down, a stifled grunt coming from Harmless as his tendons strained against the young man's weight. He landed heavily, his rifle clattering against the floor, the sound echoing out down the corridors. Ellie winced as he collected himself, dashing into a shadow on the opposite side of the room. A final pair of boots began to ease down into the room, with pants and the beginnings of a jacket coming into view as Harmless dropped, landing surprisingly quietly for a man of his size. He shined his light on each of his companions, pausing momentarily on where Ellie huddled before clicking his light off. His voice was level, though she could detect a trace of forced calmness.

"Get over here Ellie. Now."

The man was good at masking his emotions, she'd give him that. But he wasn't nearly good enough. With a slow motion she turned her head, squinting into the darkness of the hallway. There was nothing she could see, and with deliberate actions her hand wrapped back around her flashlight, her body rising and turning towards the darkness. A click spilled thin light into the passage, and she took a step back in surprise. Several bodies were strewn down the hallway, each one decayed to nothing more than bones and clothes. Clothes, she realized with a sense of foreboding, which had clearly been torn and bitten to pieces. She backed away into the center, hearing a low whistle echo out from Caleb as he took in the corpses.

"This place gives me a bad fee-"

Caleb was stopped mid-sentence; his words cutting off with a stinging clap as he found Ellie's hand clamped firmly over his mouth, the girl having materialized at his side in a bounding step. Her voice was a hiss.

"Don't. Don't you fucking say it and jinx us down here."

She pulled her hand away from him, and he gave several, slow blinks before speaking again, running the tips of his fingers over his stinging lips.

"Relax. Don't tell me you're that superstitious. Just because this place gives me the creeps doesn't mean anything bad is going to happen."

None of the three saw or heard the clicker until it was right on top of them, the noises the trio were making more than enough for the beast to hone in on them without needing its echolocation. The relative silence was swept away with a primal shriek as the abomination reached striking distance, and Ellie felt a solid mass barrel into her side, its weight carrying her heavily across the room. The monster screeched again directly into her ear, loud enough to cause a tinny ring in her mind behind the guttural, inhuman cry. She dug her feet into the ground and twisted against it as it continued to push her, small stones and pebbles skittering away under her shoes as she desperately searched for purchase. There was none to be found on the worn concrete, and with a sharp pain the beaten railing separating the struggling pair from the surging current dug into her lower back.

The shocked cries of her two companions barely reached her ears over the clicker's frenzy, and she could see Caleb desperately trying to maneuver nearer to the melee in a vain attempt to line up a shot that wouldn't simply go through her attacker and strike her. It took every ounce of the small girl's strength to keep viciously snapping jaws away from her exposed neck, and she gave a scream of exertion as the creature's muscles bulged and coiled, abnormal strength propelling its yellowed half-rotten teeth closer and closer to her flesh. A thick, cloying stench of decay filled her senses as foul air escaped the creature's lungs with each scream, and as she gasped for air as her stomach heaved in revulsion. Its fingers dug and clawed at her arms, and she bit back a more pitiful scream as nails raked across her forearms hard enough to pierce the old bite mark under her sleeve, blood quickly welling up from the scar to soak into the fabric. That only seemed to encourage the beast, and it gave an even louder cry, the tones warbling and swelling as it raged against her aching limbs. Her feet slipped, and she slid down the railing, the rusted metal now biting deep into the base of her neck, droplets of the fast moving water behind her spraying across the side of her face. As the clicker pushed harder and harder the rail felt sharper against her skin, rough and jagged bits of metal pressing into her like a knife, and her grip started to loosen as the pain became unbearable, her body naturally trying to flinch away and dislodge itself. Another strange shriek echoed out, with even the clicker seeming to briefly pause its assault in surprise at the noise. With the sounds of tortured meal echoing throughout the room the railing gave way, and both Ellie and the creature fell into the rushing current.

* * *

 _Summer 2035 – Jackson, Wyoming_

"You just float Ellie. Like this." Joel tipped onto his back, taking a deep breath and letting his legs partially slip below the lapping water. His form bobbed under the cool liquid for a moment, before bouncing back up to lie upon the surface. He twisted his head, one eye scrunched closed as water teased at his lashes, and saw the fiery girl perched upon a rock, arms defiantly crossed as she tried to hide her anxiety. He was in the deepest part of a placid lake near the town, and her feet dangled over the edge as she watched him demonstrate the simple act of not drowning. She slowly pointed at him before turning the finger back on herself, a slight tone of annoyance and defeat lacing her words.

" _You_ float. I _sink_. A bit of a difference there, big guy."

With an exasperated sigh Joel began to paddle back towards shore, each kick of his legs taking him closer to the burning sand of the small beach ringing the lake. He had been trying to teach her all day, and though she was getting better a nagging pessimism had taken hold of her mind. His feet brushed against the sucking bottom and stood up, feeling the cotton shirt he wore cling to him as he began to wade back to dry land. She watched him with every step, shifting her weight to quickly brush away a few pebbles that seemed to bite at her ass through the pair of frayed denim shorts she wore, her free hand unconsciously picking at the makeshift bandage they had cobbled together to hide her bite mark from any prying eyes.

It was mentally uncomfortable, even borderline terrifying, to have her arm exposed, covered bite or not. A million scenarios seemed to play through her mind, all starting with one small glance by the wrong person at the wrong time, and ending with Jackson receding into the distance behind her, chaos and uncertainty swallowing up the life she once had. She closed her eyes, a slight weariness encroaching upon her thoughts, and simply listened to the sounds of nature, focusing on how the sun prickled and kissed at her normally shrouded arms and legs. The easy sound of pattering rain echoed in her ears, and she opened her eyes to see Joel next to her, water shedding from his body as he crouched down, slightly shifting his weight from foot to foot as the craggy rock burnt his soles. In an entirely too uncomfortable role-reversal to her, he was the one with a carefree attitude.

"Y'know I think I figured out your problem; figured out just why you can't pick up swimming. Did you know there's two kinds of reasons to learn something, baby-girl?" She looked at him with a puzzled expression, eyes squinting against the noontime glare, before slowly shaking her head. The light sounds of falling water droplets continued to patter through her mind as the last remnants of the lake fell off his body. His torso was tensed with nervous excitement, and he swallowed hard as he fought off a wan smile, slinking down behind her as he continued speaking. "There's learning because you want to, and learning because you need to."

She turned around to fully face him, and gave an uncomprehending shrug, one side of her mouth dropping down as she searched for the meaning in his words. He knew he'd catch righteous hell for what he was about to do. He also knew it would be completely worth it, if only for his own amusement. Her words were slow; her senses prickled and alert to whatever he was planning.

"And that matters why?"

His mind lost its fight with his body, and a rare grin cracked across his face like splitting stone as he put his hands on her pale shoulders, hauling her to her feet like she weighted nothing.

"Because up till now you've wanted to. Starting now, you need to."

She took a step back and started to mumble something approaching a _what the fuck_ , but his strength caught her words in her throat, and she suddenly found herself in the air - the solid, safe, _dry_ rock she had been sitting on now soaring away from her. The lake rushed up to meet her, and the last thought that ran through her mind before impact was a very new, and very inventive variation of _motherfucker._

The water hit her with enough force to leave her arms and legs a burning, stinging red, and she slipped below the impact's waves, feeling the weight of her limbs lessen as she floated amongst the air bubbles of her landing. Her feet kicked wildly, and to her great surprise she started to rise up, the shimmering light of the surface increasing to near blinding as she ascended. A sudden thought stopped her climb, and she pushed her arms up, gliding back down deeper into the depths, the steady beat of her heart a muted rumble in her ears. A wicked grin spread across her face in the gloom, and she began to thrash her body in a tortured freestyle back towards the rock she had been thrown from, careful not to get too close to the surface.

Joel watched the water, searching for any sign of Ellie. The sun burned his exposed legs, and he rubbed at the skin, the tanned leather of his hands in stark contrast to the milk white of his calves. Faraway thoughts slipped from his lips, and he mumbled to no one in particular as he waited for her to breach the surface.

"Farmer's tan if I've ever seen one."

The lake remained relatively still, with the last waves of her impact rolling lazily against the shore, and a nagging sense of impatience began to itch at his mind, evolving into worry as the seconds ticked by. She should have at least broken the surface by then. He got to his feet, his joints creaking as his body reminded him of his age, and he shaded his eyes with one hand, scanning the surface. He called out to the girl, but no head bobbed above the green water to answer him, and he began to feel a slight tremble in his legs, his breath coming in just a little quicker as he paced back and forth on the rock. He allowed another torturous few seconds to pass before he let the worry consume him, and with a deep breath he launched off the rock, jumping out to roughly where she had landed, letting his legs power him down into the murky depths.

Worry had turned into an acidic fear, and Joel scanned the area, his eyes trying their best to pierce through the gentle shadows, searching for any sign of his girl. There was no hint of her, and he began to swim in ever expanding circles, his lungs aching as his air ran out. Steely determination fought his body's natural urge to breath, and he continued his search, holding out as long as he could until an all consuming need for oxygen drove his head above the water, a deep gasp inflating his lungs.

A stone skipped across the water near his head, and he whipped around to see Ellie perched back upon her rock, a small pile of pebbles hastily collected at her feet. Equal parts anger and relief flooded him and all he could do was glower up at her as she wrung out her hair, her well-worn hair tie pinched diligently between two fingers. Long strokes powered him towards her and his voice was a deep, breathless boom laced with disapproval.

"Ellie…"

Another stone skipped past his head, abruptly cutting him off, and she gazed down at him, pushing back up to her feet as she began to wring out parts of her tank top. An impish smile crawled across her features and she gave a deep bow, her still soaked hair sticking and clinging haphazardly along her face as she rose. Each strand was corralled back into place, and she spoke as her ubiquitous ponytail reformed to limply trail down her neck.

"Like you said Joel - I wanted to swim. But I _needed_ to pay you back for throwing me in."

He had expected sputtering and swearing from her, not a disappearing act that shaved a few weeks off his life.

"You scared me half to death girl. I thought you'd drowned."

A dramatic sigh escaped her lips, and she tutted at him like a schoolteacher, eyes alight with mischief.

"Ah, ye of little faith. It was nothing. Like always, when have I ever let you down?"

Satisfied at her appearance she plopped back down, another few stones promptly bouncing across the lake as Joel trudged up towards her. His shadow engulfed her, and she paused with her last rock in hand, twisting her head to stare up at him. The set of his jaw gave away the fear he had felt, and suddenly her prank wasn't so funny anymore if it had hurt him that much, her eyes dipping down to her feet as she tossed the stone away. She muttered a single word, an unspoken apology in each letter.

"Shit."

She saw his shadow gesture below her, and her eyes rose up to him motioning for her to stand. With a long exhale she stood, still not wanting to meet his eyes, her arms swinging at her side in a gesture of rare obedience. His hands pawed at her shoulders, slowly sliding around to pull her into a tight hug. Her head was nuzzled against his chest, and she felt his beard tickle her ear as he spoke, the tones vibrating against her chest. They suddenly didn't contain a trace of anger or hurt.

"Then let's see if you can do it again."

She yelped as he careened them both off the rock, a quick bark of his laughter echoing out as they hit the water in a tangle of limbs.

* * *

Slimy liquid threatened to rush up her nose, and she allowed a small amount of precious air from her lungs to snort out of her nostrils, driving back the dirty water and sealing her throat against the strong current. The world was a roar of muted noise and blotched colors, the hissing and rushing of the water overlapped with the thudding impacts of the clicker which still struggled against her. She tried to push away and untangle herself from the mess of primal limbs, but it was latched onto her, thrashing and attacking despite the change in environment. The pair of combatants bounced off the bottom of the channel, and Ellie curled her feet up and under her, launching the pair back towards the surface as her lungs screamed for oxygen. Her head broke above the water, and she took a gasping breath, managing to flinch away from the jagged nails of the infected man that still battled with her. The clicker's screech had changed in tone, the creature having breathed in water upon plunging in, and a disgusting warble infused its bloodthirsty cries. It pulled her around, and she was able to see what she was drifting towards, her eyes widening as she saw a sharp drop in the ceiling above, the artificial river crossing into a tunnel that sat just above the waterline. The concrete rushed to meet her, and with another deep breath she forced herself under, a bubbled cry escaping her lips as the creature raked her arms with grimy claws and punched her in the stomach.

The force of the attack bounced her off the wall of the underwater tunnel, and she found herself free of the monster's grip, slightly opening her eyes against the stinging filth to see the close ceiling arch back up above. Once more she powered herself above the water, kicking madly and throwing her arms towards the side of the sewer, feeling her fingers bump and burn across the base of the safety railings. With a shouted curse she reached out just a little farther, finally being rewarded with a shuddering impact as her fingers found purchase and slammed her against the side of the waterway. Little by little, with desperate tugs she began to pull her body up, each inch of dry ground giving her hope. The screeches of the clicker abruptly cut off, and she looked to the side to see the lifeless body of her attacker dip below the water as it entered another tunnel, the back of its head caved in from a hard impact.

Her victory was short lived as she took in echoing screams, the twisted figures of several runners sliding around a corner as they barreled towards her. One arm locked around the base of the rails, and Ellie swore as she fought the current, her free hand grasping desperately at the pistol she had holstered before being attacked. Shaky fingers wrapped around the weapon, and with a ferocious pull she yanked it free of her backpack, dragging it up and out of the water, hoping to anything that might be watching down on her to let the gun fire. A quick slam of the barrel against the concrete floor dislodged a spurt of brackish water, and as the infected drew closer she tucked her head against her shoulder, wedging the slide of the gun between her cheek and muscle as she chambered a round. An unspent bullet sprang out, and her mind cursed itself for forgetting she had prepared her gun before dropping into that dark hell. Her limbs burned from exertion and adrenaline, and jerky movements pointed the gun forwards, a bullet leaping from the barrel to hit the first runner in the stomach. The creature stumbled and fell with a roar of surprise, the monstrosity that was charging just behind it tripping over the fallen form, both getting quick finishing rounds. Ellie turned the gun on the last creature, and pumped round after round into its mass. It was considerably heavier than the other two, and charged on as it absorbed the impacts, each step being delayed, but not stopped. The fourth shot took it in the neck, and it collapsed a hand span away from her, jaws biting into thin air as it tried with the last of its life to reach her. It failed, and expired with a gurgled clamor, its fingers giving a final, feeble twitch as life left it.

Aching muscles pulled her from the water, and she collapsed on the concrete next to the infected, too exhausted to even crawl away from its unmoving corpse. There was no noise save for the painful ringing of damaged eardrums, her hearing momentarily deserting her from the pistol's hellish and echoing retort in the confined space of the sewer. The worn girl simply focused on her breathing for a few precious moments, driving air in and out of her lungs, pushing aside how cold and spent she now was. With an almost morbid curiosity she picked up her pistol once more, ejecting the magazine and turning it towards her eyes to count the remaining rounds. A clammy shudder traveled down her spine as she took in the empty magazine, and stored the metal object in her pocket, reaching into her dripping backpack for a fresh one. She was thankful she had the foresight to wrap up her bullets and food, the sectioned off contents of her pack still dry and usable despite everything.

Shouted cries pierced the cacophony in her head, and she pushed herself against the wall as whatever was causing the noise drew closer, again readying her gun. A figure blurred around the corner, and she stopped short of raising the weapon as he recognized Caleb, a rifle clutched in each of his hands. He skidded to a halt in front of her, his voice coming in short bursts through the ringing.

"Ho…hit…ought y…gone. Tak…is….un"

She blinked at each word, an incensed anger bubbling up at her inability to comprehend what he was saying.

"I can't fucking hear! What did you say?"

He gripped her shoulder, pulling his mouth right next to her soaked hair, shouting into her ear. His voice was worn from the volume, and he panted heavily from the exertion of catching her.

"I said holy shit, I thought you were gone! Now take this fucking rife – we've got to move!"

The battered hunting rifle had been knocked off her person when the clicker tackled her, and the young man thrust the weapon back towards her, her arms instinctively cradling around the long gun as she pulled it to herself. The weight of the weapon was comforting, but the reunion was cut short as Caleb began to drag her the way he had come, shouting as loud as he could to make sure she heard.

"Infected have been pouring out of every dark fucking corner after we got attacked! Harmless is a few rooms down, he thinks he found another tunnel out of here."

His grip on her wrist tightened, and he led her through dark service corridors at a sprint, the sounds of a struggle growing louder with each second. They reached a bend in the tunnel, the pair slamming to a halt as a clicker flew past their view, impacting full force into a wall. It let out a sharp screech of pain as it spit out the ruins of teeth, but before Ellie or her companion could raise their weapons a blur of motion leaped onto the dazed creature, its head being smashed against the wall over and over until the sickening pop of a shattering skull could be heard. Harmless detached himself from the stricken body, wheeling around to smash a charging runner in the ribs with a steel pipe clutched in his free hand. Horrible gurgling sounds escaped crushed lungs as the runner toppled over, the infected's legs stamping and flailing against the ground as it chocked to death. The steel pipe flew down and caved in its head for good measure, the metal snapping in half as the impacts shattered it. With a clang Harmless tossed the bit of metal aside, turning to face the two survivors as he caught his breath. He eyed Ellie up and down, taking in her shivering form.

"You okay?"

She looked herself up and down for the first time since being attacked, taking in her soaked, ruined appearance. Her jacket was torn from the clicker, blood trickling down her arms from multiple scratches and cuts, and she angled her slightly exposed bite mark out of view, nodding quickly as she forced down rising anxiety. She hoped they hadn't seen it.

"I've been better, but yeah. In one piece still, at least."

More cries of the infected could be heard, and without a word the group took off, the tall man leading his younger companions through twists and turns. Ellie half expected each leering shadow to dislodge a screaming abomination, but thankfully the braying stayed firmly behind them as they entered a large, circular room filled with clutter and garbage. She pulled a bandage out of her pack, quickly wrapping the rag around her arm to hide her secret, thankful that her companions hadn't noticed. As she tied off the dressing she saw Harmless and Caleb drag several boxes towards a wall, stacking them up to a gaping hole she hadn't noticed. An ancient chalk X hung above the entrance, the meaning behind the symbol lost on the young girl. A healthy dose of skepticism entered her mind, and she eyed the maw suspiciously as the men continued to work. With a grunt the last box in the set of makeshift steps was set down and Harmless stepped back, wiping his hands on his pants. She eyed him and the hole wearily before speaking.

"What makes you sure that's an exit?"

The cries of their pursuers drew closer, and his voice was pinched from adrenaline, for once the composed exterior of her companion cracking under pressure. It was an oddly humanizing outburst from someone who she suspected might actually be a robot.

"Nothing. But it's better than staying down here."

She had to concede the point, and without any further questions ran up the boxes, ducking her head down as she entered the new tunnel. Fingers pushed into loose dirt as she moved deeper into the darkness, and she spat a quiet curse as her flashlight failed to turn on despite the vicious hits she gave it. _And they said it was waterproof_ , she thought. The tunnel seemed to be an opposite copy of the one they had first entered, and she could feel it gently slope up, twisting around in a wide circle. It almost reminded her of the hundreds of rusted slides she had seen in her travels. The grating cries of the infected had dropped away, and the trio was left in gloom and silence, only the panting of their breathing and the scratching of their shoes against the ground giving any indication of progress. Ellie proceeded with one hand stretched out, feeling her way through the tunnel, the tips of her fingers invisible to her eyes no matter how close she brought them.

Time seemed to have forgotten that dark passageway, and though none of the trio would give voice to it a deep anxiety had begun to run rampant through their minds, the darkness and silence a maddening pressure on their psyches. Each crawled a little faster, bumping into each other more and more as a desire for light and sound spurred them forwards and up. Finally Ellie rounded a corner, and felt the dirt wall off in front of her, the tunnel shooting up to a heavy cover. The faint scent of fresh air lingered in the shaft, and that was all the motivation she needed to begin pushing at the metal barrier, straining against its mass with everything she had. The obstruction weighted at least as much as she did, and though she could hear metal grinding against metal, the steel refused to budge.

"C'mon…stupid…fucking…thing…" Her words punctuated her shoves, and she screwed her eyes shut as she pushed with all she had. A hand pressed her into the corner of the shaft, and she felt another body fill the empty space, a deep breath hissing between teeth as Harmless added his strength to the effort. The tall man was crammed into the tunnel, and his shoulder forced itself painfully into her chest, the soaked fibers of her shirt feeling like sandpaper against her skin. Ellie shouted against the effort, her words bitten with a deep ache and exertion.

"Stop trying to cop a feel and fucking _push!_ "

The pair let out mutual grunts as they gave it one final try, arms and legs shaking against the heavy weight. With a tortured clang of rusted metal the lid lifted off its base and slowly slid away, a small half-moon of open air spilling twilight into the pitch-blackness of the tunnel. The scent was exhilarating, the freshness of the new air melting away the stress and exhaustion that had permeated her small body moments before. Fingers curled around the opening and she tugged with renewed vigor, her view of freedom growing bigger by the minute, the metal cover proving much more compliant now that it had been lifted from its base. With a final rattle the lid was pulled out of view, and a perfect circle of night sky shone down on them, the stars glinting as thin clouds rolled overhead. It almost surprised her that it was still night out, time having dropped away in her furious struggle underneath the city.

Without a word to her companions she scrambled up and out, dropping her pack at her feet and turning in a small circle, caution momentarily forgotten as she basked in the openness. The tunnel had deposited them in a derelict yard, the wall that ringed the city jutting up on one side, the street barely visible on the other, shrouded behind several layers of fences, each tipped with vicious looking barbed wire. She could just hear the muted roar of civilization, the cries of street vendors and other less-than-savory services being advertised by hoarse throats. Looming tenements hemmed in on either side, the facades crumbling and in disrepair. Ellie recollected herself as Harmless and Caleb hoisted themselves up, a huge smile of self-satisfaction splitting across her face as they each took in their new surroundings.

"Now what?"

The smile slightly faltered from Harmless' question, and with an almost vertigo-like feeling Ellie realized she hadn't expected to make it this far. She pulled at her ponytail, running her fingers through the dirty, damp strands of hair.

"Well, I kinda figured I'd make the plan up as we go."

Without warning Harmless' hands drove into her shoulders, his palms feeling like battering rams against her tender and bruised flesh, and she fell back, landing gracelessly on a chunk of upturned concrete, her head slamming heavily onto the ground, stars swirling through her vision. The breath was driven from her lungs, and she raised her head in time to see the man tackle Caleb, the mass of their tangled limbs landing heavily a few feet away. Ellie was about to scream, a vicious curse rising in her throat as her temper flared, before the air around them was filled with bullets and the shouts of soldiers.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:**

Hey there everyone, here's chapter 6! Sorry this one took a bit, I've noticed that my chapters are getting longer, and I'm also finding much less free time to write (thanks college and work) but I work with what I've got. Anyway, I think the added time I gave this chapter certainly paid off, but I'll leave that to you all to decide. As always let me know what you think and enjoy!

* * *

Ellie pressed herself into the ground, coughing as her sharp breaths lodged dirt and dust in her parched throat. As small as she was right then she felt gargantuan – an enormous specimen waiting to be dissected by hissing bullets, and she willed the mass of her body to disappear behind one of the thin tufts of grass pressing up between cracks in the concrete of the yard. Gunfire flew over her head, quick bursts of light and noise flashing from the tall windows of one of the surrounding buildings. She saw a flicker of movement in the corner of her eye, twisting her head against the rough ground to see Harmless rise from cover, the barrel of his rifle sweeping up. He didn't even have time to fully raise the weapon before a streak of hot lead caught him in the arm, the bullet tearing a shallow path through the meat of his flesh, dropping him back into cover with a bellowed curse. She fought to retain some semblance of calm in her mind, forcing every thought out of her screaming consciousness except what she had to do to survive five second. If she made it that long than she'd worry about five more seconds. With trembling fingers she rooted through her backpack, her fist curling around a tightly sealed leather pack. She quickly drew the bundle out, chewing her way through the knotted straps, the flap opening with a final tear to reveal several smoke bombs and a lighter. Each fuse was hastily lit, the small sacks of powder being tossing up and away – one towards the building seemingly teeming with soldiers, one behind her, and the final bomb between where she and her companions cowered. The seconds ticked by achingly slowly, a burning panic filling her heart until in succession each bomb went off with a thud and clap, the faint breeze drawing the thick clouds into one rolling, obscuring mass. Bullets continued to knife through the cover indiscriminately, and as she rose from the ground to stumble towards her companions she heard the amount of gunfire double, her mind daring to hope that their luck would last just a little longer. The smoke burned and itched at her nostrils as she staggered forwards through the fog, and she almost tripped over Caleb as his form materialized at her feet, his knuckles white as he gripped his rifle with trembling hands. She grabbed him by the collar and tugged at him, somehow managing to lift his heavier frame to a standing position, pushing him with all her might towards the other tenement's looming, shattered doors. She shouted over the gunfire, her voice raw and scraping at her throat.

"Go, get us inside!"

Long steps bounded him towards their respite from no-man's-land, and he angled his shoulder forwards as he slammed through the rotted doors with a crash and explosion of splinters. She watched him disappear into the gloom before she turned her attention to Harmless, the man's face a mask of controlled pain as he clutched at the inside of his arm, his jacket's sleeve soaking through with blood. An odd sense of déjà vu spread over her as she once again shouted over the cacophony.

"Can you walk?"

He nodded, biting his lip as he struggled to his feet, grimacing as Ellie slapped his rifle into his hands, her arms gesturing wildly towards the doors Caleb had broken open.

"Then fucking walk!"

She followed close behind; one hand on his backpack, pushing him forwards even faster, every neuron and synapse in her brain screaming to make keep moving. Harmless stumbled, and used the momentum to half trip, and half throw himself into the building, and as Ellie coiled up to do the same the world went spinning.

For as long as she had been around horses she had, quite luckily, never been kicked by one. But that was the closest comparison her brain could find as she suddenly felt a thunderous clap hit her in the small of her back, tossing her over the threshold of the ruined apartment building, the filthy ground rushing up to meet her. She blinked, one hand frantically tracing up and down her back, her senses alight for any hint of pain or damage. A heady sense of relief coursed through her as her hand came away clean, and she looked up to see Caleb starring with wide eyes, a finger pointed at her backpack.

"Holy fuck Ellie."

She twisted her head, seeing the hint of a ragged hole in her pack, her limbs quickly crawling her away from the open door and deeper into the relative safety the apartment provided. She pulled the bag off her back, flipping it around to see a small cavity punched in the center. Fingers fumbled with the rusty zippers, and with a tug she unzipped the front pocket, her two partners glancing at her as she let out a laugh, her hand digging into the folds of her backpack and pulling out the shattered remnants of Tommy's pistol. Despite the continued chatter of gunfire she couldn't help but grin, holding the ruined weapon inches from her face to study how the round had lodged itself in the gun, the barrel almost folding in on itself from the force of the impact. An almost wondrous tone took hold of Ellie's voice, and she continued to study the sharp bits of metal.

"And they say guns only kill people."

She lifted her eyes from her unexpected savior, the tenuous situation rushing back in, her smile dropping from her features as quickly as it had appeared. Caleb had nestled into the shadows of a window, a sharp snap of this rifle's butt-stock shattering a portion of the glass to fire through, quickly situating himself and beginning to take quick shots at the hidden soldiers, his eyes squinting through the smoke as he searched for any hints of a target, drawing most of the gunfire towards his position. Harmless rested against a moldy chair, blood now soaking down his shirt and jacket, his breathing ragged as he clutched at his arm. Quick steps brought her to her injured friend, and she kneeled beside him as she hunted for a bandage.

"You're hurt."

As soon as the words left her mouth she expected a dry retort from him – something, anything to let her know how stupidly obvious her statement was. Instead he shied away from her touch, an small glint of terror in his eyes as he grasped his arm close to his body, doing his best to scoot away from her, the pain in his arm growing with every small motion. He tried and failed to keep his voice level.

"It's nothing."

It was her turn to shoot him a look, her eyes flashing a sincere _what the fuck_ at his behavior. She grabbed his wounded arm, squeezing just a little harder than she needed to, seeing him wince and shudder from the pain. It was all the confirmation she needed.

"That's not fucking nothing."

He continued to try and shift away from her, forcing the girl to stand up and block him in. He was grasping at straws.

"Leave it Ellie. I'll fix myself up."

She couldn't tell if that was an insult or his pride getting in the way. Half of Jackson knew she was one of the best when it came to cleaning and dressing wounds. Her stitch work was the stuff of legends. A mix of anger and bewilderment crept into her voice.

"Look, I need you fixed now, and fixed my way, okay? Quit the bullshit. Now gimmie."

Once more she grabbed the arm, practically sitting on top of him and wedging his wrist between her arm and side, feeling his body tense as she pulled his jacket away from the wound, the layer of hot blood between his skin and the fabric making a faint sucking sound as she exposed the gash. A defeated resignation entered his mind, and he relented, preparing for the worst when she saw the mark he had forced himself to keep. It was part threat, part warning, and part reminder of who he would never let himself become again. Harmless looked away as she studied his arm, half expecting a gasp of horror or a string of curses. As she began scrubbing at his wound her voice was raised over the gunfire, but not a trace of the revolt he expected was in it. He felt her eyes studying his secret, a finger tip tracing up and down each mark. She spoke quickly as she began to clean his wound, her sarcasm in full force despite the situation.

"Oh look, it's letters. This just changes everything. Jesus, it's just fucking letters – not even a word. Big fucking deal. I've used more in worse combinations plenty of times."

Relief streamed through him, and for the first time in a long time he held back tears, strangely thankful that history lessons weren't part of Ellie's upbringing. He tried to keep still as she worked, the seconds seeming to take minutes as gunfire continued to echo out. A cold realization slammed into him, and as she tied off the ends of the carefully done stitches he bolted upright, practically tossing the small girl off his form. Ellie landed with a thud, and before she could launch into a rant and berate him he gestured up, his thumb stabbing towards the ceiling.

"Don't you hear that?"

There wasn't much she could hear over the gunfire. Then it clicked. _The gunfire._ Sound echoed almost endlessly in the courtyard, the high concrete buildings trapping the noise into a frenzied, continuous drone. Every shot sounded like it came from everywhere at once, but if she strained her ears she could just make out the individual claps of noise. Half of it was now coming from a few stories above them. The pair shared a gaze, before once again Ellie stated the obvious.

"There's people up there," he nodded, and she continued on, almost embarrassed that it took someone else to notice. "And they sure as hell aren't shooting at us." Joel would have given her hell for missing that.

The jacket was inched back onto his shoulders, and Harmless flexed his hand, feeling the stitches pull snugly in his skin. Her reputation was well deserved. The sharp pain had subsided to a dull throb, and he was able to think more clearly, his words once again coming out at an unhurried pace.

"So think they're friends?"

She stared up at the ceiling, now painfully aware of the ongoing sound of gunfire emanating several floors up in the decrepit building, a burning curiosity to find out who was brave or stupid enough to take on the military consuming her train of thought. She approached the door that led into the hallway of the building, a solid kick impacting just below the handle and sending the door flying outwards, shards of rusted lock falling against the ground like copper snow. She locked eyes with Harmless, pointing to Caleb before readying her rifle and setting off down the moldy hall without another word. Careful steps took her down the derelict corridor, her eyes darting from each and every half-legible sign, searching for a way to ascend. A weathered symbol grabbed her attention, her eyes focusing on the sharp, industrial lines, the words 'service stairs' faded to almost nothing. The door was propped open, a murky darkness welling out of the entrance. She felt the presence of her companions behind her, and on by one they jogged into the gloom.

Each step took them higher and higher, the oppressive sound of gunfire continuing to echo as a dull roar. The cacophony seemed to be coming from several floors above them, and the party wound their way up the flights of stairs, pausing their ascent as the sounds of combat cut off like a switch was thrown. The group increased their pace, charging up as quickly as they could, Ellie desperate to make contact with whomever had joined in against the soldiers. Breathless she reached a landing, certain that this was where the gunfire had come from. A solid metal door barred their way, the slab refusing to budge as she pushed against it, rattling the handle vainly. She gave it a hard kick, only being rewarded with a throbbing pain in the sole of her foot as it bounced off the dented and rusted surface, sending her bouncing back, fighting to remain upright. With a muttered curse she stepped back, and motioned for Caleb to try his hand. She turned away, studying the dim path they took up, the seconds ticking by slowly as she tapped her foot against the floor.

Unannounced the solid metal burst open with a clang, and Ellie turned her head towards the noise, expecting a triumphant whoop from Caleb. All she saw was him on the ground, dazed and clutching at his head, his weapon skidding across the floor, and the ghosts of several men pouring into the shadowed stairs through the ruins of the doorway, rifles trained on the party, corralling them slightly deeper into the stairwell. Ellie braced herself for a torrent of bullets, but the men surrounding them held their fire, though fingers wrapped tightly around the triggers of several assault rifles. Flashlights clicked on and blinded her, the figures suddenly obscured by the blazing white light. A voice rang out, the words echoing up and down the empty space.

"So I'd bet you're the ones who scared the shit out of those camo'd fucks across the way."

Without needing to be commanded Ellie set her rifle at her feet, slowly raising her hands in the air in surrender. The clatter of Harmless' weapon soon followed, and she saw his hands rise in her peripheral. If these men wanted her group dead there wasn't much she could do to stop it, and right then it paid to be diplomatic and unassuming. She forced her fear down, throwing every bit of her concentration into stilling the hammering of her heart and making her voice slip out evenly and slowly.

"From the sounds of it we saved you guys some trouble. They weren't shooting at you, at least not at first. And I'm guessing you wouldn't have opened up on them if you were just passing through. I'm Ellie."

There was a several second pause before the voice replied, a trace of humor in its heavy tones.

"She's a smart one, boys. Credit where credit is due, _Ellie,_ you probably did save us a bit of trouble by kicking that hornets' nest before we could. You got those soldiers to expose themselves real nice taking pot-shots at your asses."

A lump shifted uncomfortably in her throat, and she swallowed, lowering her hands slightly, making sure that she continued to remain as unthreatening as possible.

"Glad we could help. So like that saying goes…the enemy of my enemy is my-"

The voice laughed and cut her off.

"Friend? I wouldn't go that far miss. I know y'all aren't from this Q.Z. Which means you're here on business, and you're here because you want something in this shit-hole. You sure as fuck didn't mean to, but you probably saved my lot some pain, and one good turn deserves another so I'll give you a chance to make yourself useful to my boss. Maybe you'll get what you came here for."

A sharp whistle rang out, and the lights clicked off, the men lowering their weapons and taking several steps back. A sense of vertigo seemed to grip Ellie as her muscles relaxed, and she leaned against the cinderblock wall of the stairwell, doing her best to remain standing on wobbling feet. She herself a moment to rest before bending down and picking up her rifle, seeing Caleb drag himself up from where he had been laying and dusting himself off, his face a mask of white. One of the men, the one who Ellie guessed had been doing the talking, motioned her to follow, brushing past her group and down the stairs. She did her best to keep up with his fast pace, her feet shaking and slipping as adrenaline slowly worked out of her system. As they descended she sized his group up. They were well fed; something that Boston had taught her was a rare thing indeed. They also moved with a purpose and discipline, the man not hesitating for a moment as they exited the stairs, cutting a sharp turn down a new hallway and lengthening his strides to a slow gallop. Ellie quickened her pace to pull alongside him, her natural inquisitiveness supplanting her fear. The leader in particular was a bit of a specimen, slabs of muscles clinging underneath the folds of his clothes, leading up to a sharp face, dirty hair cut close to rough skin. Intelligent eyes flickered over her as he twisted his head down to her bobbing form. She considered herself pretty good at sizing people up, partly because it helped her know who her friends were, but more importantly because it let her know who her enemies were. This group could go either way. The man had the eyes of someone who got things done. They held the same hard stare that she remembered Joel having the first time they met – eyes hard and all emotion safely locked away in some dark corner of the mind, back when she was nothing but cargo to dump off on someone else. Boston had had a thriving black market, and from the look of things Denver was no exception. She tried her best at small talk.

"So you guys are smugglers, I'm guessing? Move stuff in and out of the city? What kind of stuff do you-" she paused and searched for the words Joel had used when she finally got him to open up, hoping that the slang would do something to make a good impression. "What stuff do you run?"

He quickly paused, the abruptness forcing her to take several steps past him, and she turned around to see a wry smile spread across his face as he regarded her. His voice was infused with an accent she couldn't quite place.

"Guns, people, food. We try to do more when we can though."

He spoke with a false tone, and she was goaded into his trap.

"What do you mean?"

He laughed, the rest of his men gathering in a rough semi-circle behind him, an identical, knowing grin plastered on each face.

"Kid, we're not some damn black-market ring." He tugged at his neck, pulling out a thin, beaded necklace, a small pendant dangling between his fingertips. "We're the Fireflies."

* * *

The city was sick, and those who lived within its blood-stained walls were both the cure and the cancer. Desolation and an aching sense of distance and mistrust permeated every human interaction from the clumps of beggars wearily extending bony, malnourished hands for crumbs of bread, to the military police who patrolled every street corner, rifles clutched in tight fists, their safeties already off in a silent display of potential violence. As the world had succumbed to its illness the minds of men also ailed, horrid fever dreams and an air of mass psychosis becoming as common as empty, aching stomachs. The Q.Z.'s had walled themselves off from the world, each vestige of once great cities turning into nothing more than feudal kingdoms and fortresses. The cloying stench of fear was nauseating to Ellie, with every gust of wind seeming to carry a lingering aftertaste of urine, iron and sweat.

The Fireflies led her group through the quarantine zone, winding through a maze of decrepit tenements, each building, back-alley and rooftop uniform in their complete destruction of human dignity. An unspoken order to keep quiet had been given, and they proceeded in absolute silence, the only noise coming from the party the crunching of an almost constant layer of broken glass underfoot.

Horrors burned into her mind like lightning, each individual act of depravity stark and frozen like a picture.

And she thought Boston had been bad.

A group of children huddled in an abandoned room they traveled through. Soiled mattresses covered the windows, only small streaks of puss-colored light soaking into the room. Animal noises echoed out from cavity-riddled mouths, and threadbare clothes fluttered against their sore-covered bodies as they first advanced towards the intruders, hands outstretched and eyes pleading for scraps of food, before quickly recoiling in fear from the Fireflies, pressing frail backs against the flaking plastered walls, soundless howls of terror filling their lungs as they sank down to their knees. A brother and sister clutched at each other, snaking arms around emaciated bodies in some small effort at comfort. Ellie's face twisted in sympathetic pain as she took in the scene. Some morbid part of her brain whispered how easily she could have been in that situation. Her pace slowed, and she rooted through her backpack as the Fireflies continued to file past her, pulling out a chunk of dry bread and tossing it at the pair's feet. As one the pair scrambled for the bread, grimy hands tugging at either corner. Both bodies seemed to stiffen, and their eyes traveled up from the food to lock with each other. Before Ellie knew what was happening a frenzy of violence enveloped the siblings, arms and fists and nails striking and thrashing against pasty skin, the pair ripping each other to pieces in a starvation-born rage. With a sickening crunch the brother drove the sister's head against the hard floor, her body seizing up and twitching feebly before dropping limply, the remaining combatant quickly scooping up his prize and eating it with wild eyes. As the last crumb disappeared into his mouth he retreated to a corner, leaving the body of the girl he had protected just moments before to remain where he had struck her down. Ellie stood still, a stunned numbness cementing her limbs at her sides, her mind reeling as she witnessed the barbarity. Hands wrapped around her shoulders, and she let Harmless lead her out, stinging, bitter tears welling up in her eyes. Her thoughts retreated deep within her, and a laconic air of brooding radiated from Ellie as the group traveled through dozens more rooms, each one containing some unique scene of human depravity. Each hellish piece seemed to swirl into her mind, the broken bodies and downcast souls of the unfortunates she saw merging together to pain a single picture of filth.

Dark hallways led them from one area to the next, the garbage and filth littering the area almost becoming monotonous. Suddenly the ruin dropped away, and a thick wooden door stood before the group, the handle attached to it a dented mess of brass. One of the Fireflies strode towards it, pounding his fist several times against the weathered oak, backing up a pace and waiting. Another one of the freedom fighters – she never did learn his name – pulled her aside, checking over his shoulder towards the rest of the group before speaking, his voice a quiet, conspiratorial murmur.

"A piece of advice. The lady on the other side of the door…behind her back she's known as Momma Rags. But never, _never_ call her that to her face." His last sentence was hissed out, the way his eyes kept flickering back to the as yet unopened door giving a hint of warning to his statement instead of threat. Ellie shifter her weight from foot to foot, curiosity getting the best of her.

"Why not?"

He gave a shrug, situating his slung rifle across his chest, the faint sounds of movement barely audible on the other side of the door. His words were matter-of-fact

"The last person who did got stabbed in the neck."

Incredulity sized her voice, and she shook her head.

"Then why the fuck _ever_ call her that?"

A heavy lock was thrown, and the door swept inwards, revealing the hunched form of an unassuming middle-aged woman. The Firefly stepped away from her, his voice thrown over his shoulder.

"You'll see. Trust me."

The new figure spoke, her voice high and nasally as she shuffled to the side, claw like fingers twisting and beckoning the group into her realm, her voice managing to sound both dotting and unsettling.

"In…in, everyone in. And keep quiet, you'll wake the baby."

One by one the group filed in, some members of the Fireflies inclining their heads in greetings and respect, other striding past the thin figure like she wasn't there. She was shorter, shorter than even Ellie, her shoulders hunched forwards as age and gravity settled heavily against her bones, the scent of talcum powder and something medicinal and antiseptic wafting from her patchwork clothes. Small eyes burned like coals in a face framed by grey hair, and the pupils followed each man as they crossed the threshold. Ellie chose to give her a wan smile as she walked past, feeling the eye of this new woman boring into the back of her head as she crossed the door-sill.

Momma Rag's apartment was a world away from the state of rapid decay that seemed endemic to the rest of Denver. Pink paint clung to the walls, and the room was bathed in soft light from several open windows. The scent of baby powder was even stronger inside, and toys were strewn about the room in small piles. Ellie let her gaze travel up, and allowed her eyes to widen as she regarded dozens of teddy-bears perched on top of each and every cabinet and shelf, every pair of black plastic eyes seeming to track and follow her across the room. A voluptuous crib sat in the corner of the large room; the wood painted a brilliant shade of white, with the blankets a deep, velvet blue. With an echoing sense of finality the door was shut and locked behind the group, the aging woman sweeping past the small crowd without a word, dipping veined hands into the crib to retrieve a swaddled bundle. She brought the mass to her chest, gently rocking it back and forth as she regarded the figures in her presence. The Firefly in charge stepped forwards, setting a small package on a table near her.

"As always, the cooperation is appreciated. We're just passing through ma'am."

The ancient woman seemed annoyed, returning the cooing bundle to its crib before cutting through the group once more, opening the door to a small side room before darting behind Ellie, a manic energy possessing her steps. The freckled girl shifted her gaze, peering into the room and spotting the beginnings of a hidden passage eking out around the corners of a massive bookshelf. Several Fireflies shuffled in, muttered protests and groans falling from tightly pressed lips as they began the slow process of moving the gargantuan object. Little by little the bookcase began to move, and Ellie quickly tired of watching, stifling a curse as she turned to see Momma Rags mere inches from her, slate gray eyes pinning her where she stood. A gnarled finger reached out to trace down her chin, and Ellie suppressed a shudder that threatened to seize her limbs as the woman continued to regard her. The elder began to speak, her voice a low drone, echoing out like creaking wood.

"Where is your mother, child?"

The question seemed almost accusatory, and Ellie's first instinct was a heartfelt _it's none of your fucking business_ , but she bit her tongue, wracking her mind for what someone with a little more social grace would say. She forced a sad smile to her face.

"Where most people's mothers are I guess."

A half-growl, half-moan vibrated through ancient vocal cords, and the woman licked her lips as she returned the now crying bundle to her arms.

"An orphan." The last word was almost spat out. "Another of God's poor unwanted gifts."

Ellie felt a hot pang of anger well up in her, and it took a sharp holding of her breath, her lungs filling and stretching with air until they pulsed with each heartbeat, to quiet her knee-jerk response. She found a nice compromise, her tone an artificial neutral, veiled challenge and indignation coursing through each word.

"I've got someone else, y'know. I think he'd disagree pretty strongly about that unwanted part."

The woman's stare burned into Ellie, a quick glint of bubbling rage appearing and disappearing in an instant. Ellie felt her legs tense, expecting anything and everything. Momma Rags stiffened, her cracked lips peeling back as she gave her a broken smile, yellowed teeth interspaced with black voids, puffy gums seeming to pulse and twitch where several teeth used to rest.

"So where is he then? A delicate thing like you shouldn't be left alone."

Ellie broke the long stare, trailing her gaze to her worn shoes, almost feeling the smile on the wretched woman widening at her slight victory. She wobbled as if in a breeze, forcing emerald eyes back up to the lined and worn face of the aged woman, a small stream of anxiety seeming to drip and flow through her mind.

"In trouble."

"So the world sends the sheep to save the Sheppard, and wonders why both become food for the wolf. This place will break you," she took a long pause, her cheeks expanding as a probing tongue rolled around them, "little one."

Ellie took a step back, her hands curling into tightly balled fists. She wasn't known for her patience.

"Well it's clearly broken you." She left the last word of her statement - a venomous _bitch_ – unspoken.

"I only fix, dear. I had one like you, so full of fire and challenge. She was untouchable, an unassailable fortress. But she perched herself up, up, up, and like all castles built in the sky she came crashing down. I was left to pick up the pieces, and from one," she gestured around the room, "came many."

There was no quick response Ellie could formulate. The woman's words seemed a drawling, ghosting manic, and her eyes throbbed with an almost unnatural energy despite her advanced years. She clutched the swaddle closer to her chest, before tilting her head, seeming to hear something no one else could.

"The child needs its bottle. Be a dear and hold it for me." Momma Rags thrust the mass of blankets into Ellie's arms, taking a step back and regarding the awkward stance the young girl had had to quickly take to accommodate her new charge. She continued speaking, her words a sing-song threat. "Now be sure not to drop it."

Fingers curled into the blanket, and Ellie's nose crinkled, a strange odor wafting up from the soft mass. Slow steps took the woman away and into the kitchen, and though Fireflies surrounded her she suddenly felt very much alone. She stared down at the bundle in her arms, curiosity slowly taking over her mind as the muted cries continued to echo out from within the swaddle. The rest of the room seemed to drop away as she waited until the ghostly woman had fully disappeared, before quickly pulling part of the blanket away, her head spinning as she regarded the thing underneath. It was a doll; crushed, hollow black eyes gazing up at her, and she quickly re-covered the fake infant, a deep nausea settling in the pit of her stomach. The baby's eyes and cry had been artificial. The skin and hair wrapped tightly around its face - though tanned and leathered - was not. She fought back the urge to dry-heave, the room and the woman who inhabited it suddenly taking on a much more sinister, maddening air. She cast her gaze upwards, a spear of terror driving through her as she studied the bears that seemed to regard her with muted hatred. Each one was covered in the same roughly stitched skin, the fur nothing more than the tight curls of human hair. A quiet cheer went up in the other room, and one of the Fireflies poked his head through, waving the rest of the party through the now exposed tunnel. The bundle was quickly placed in the crib, and Ellie dashed past the group, ducking down and disappearing into the passageway, the echo of Momma Rag's laugh chasing her down the tunnel.

The group traveled on for several more hours, winding and tracing an erratic path around the edge of the quarantine zone. Everything seemed to blend together, until finally they broke out onto a long pitted street, small clumps of people thronging the sidewalks, black market vender stalls lining up and down the street. The cries of salesmen echoed out, each ramshackle shop hawking their wears of fourth-hand clothes and fresh rodent skewers. The group slipped into the human mass, quietly moving towards a building sitting innocuously at the end of the road.

The building was low, solid red-bricked walls jutting up to a flat metal roof, the windows of the large storehouse boarded up or simply broken. It blended in perfectly, looking for all the world like just another burnt out husk, the people wandering around its façade dressed in the rags and blankets of vagrants. If any military patrol were to pass by – and it had been years since any had penetrated that deep into the slums – there was no indication that the squat, rectangular building was the base of operations for the city's Fireflies, just as there was no hint of the cut-off pistols and rifles that were concealed under the blankets of those who loitered about. The Fireflies quickly marched up the front steps, filing in through the doors, searching for empty bunks to sleep in or a hot meal to fill aching stomachs. The leader stopped, turning around to face Ellie and raising a hand to halt her.

"Wait here. Got to talk to the boss."

Without another word he spun on his heel and retreated into the building, leaving Ellie, Harmless and Caleb to their own thoughts on the stoop. One by one each sank down to sit on the steps or recline against the brick wall, aching feet and sore legs slowly relaxing as a tired silence settled over each member. Ellie floated amongst her mind, sifting through the day's events like a slideshow as a faint breeze teased as her bangs, breathing in the slightly acidic tang of Denver. A squawk of voices above the din drove her eyelids open, and she searched for the source of the commotion, her gaze settling on a small cluster of figures down the street. She craned her head forwards, the exchange traveling on the wind.

"How much ya' cost, girl?"

A slim teenage girl no older than Ellie was cornered by a short, bullish looking man, her chest pushed out intentionally, just enough tanned skin exposed to give a silent indication of why she was traveling from street-corner to street-corner. The girl looked the man up and down as she brushed a lock of golden hair out of her face, a quick appraisal filtering through her mind before she spoke.

"Two cards. Two cards'll get you whatever you want."

The man crossed his arms, taking a step back to let narrowed eyes linger on certain parts of her anatomy.

"Your tits aren't even worth one."

Her shoulders dropped as he roughly brushed past her, and she continued her slow walk down the street, forcing her head up and her hips to sway with each step. A Firefly appeared through the doors behind Ellie, a small crate balanced in his arms as he eased his way down the steps. Her voice stopped him mid stride.

"What's a card?"

He shifted the package in his grip, letting the wooden box rest on one hip as he regarded the disheveled girl at his feet. This must have been the kid that broke up the monotony back inside. About time something interesting happened.

"What kinda' card you asking about?"

Ellie shrugged and pointed down the street, the man's eyes following her outstretched finger to rest on the girl. A slight _ah_ escaped his lips. Only one kind of card a person like that would be after.

"Ration card. You trade them in for food."

Her finger dropped, and she rested her elbows on her knees, placing her chin into the cradle of her palms, her eyes never leaving the approaching girl.

"How much food?"

The man shrugged, a hard motion to do with the edges of the crate biting into his fingertips, and he hoisted it back up as he continued his descent down the stairs, turning back to her as he reached the sidewalk.

"A meal, if you can call it that. Last one I turned in got me a bowl of rat stew. Oh sure, they said it was chicken, but I've eaten enough rats around here to know the damn difference."

With that he continued on his errand, and Ellie continued to watch the girl advertise her body, the slight hesitation of each step seeming to scream that she wanted to be anywhere but where she currently was. Ellie absentmindedly chewed on a fingernail as the girl drew closer, each step a silent personal battle. Before she knew what she was doing the auburn-haired girl was on her feet and jogging towards the sashaying figure, a quick cry of _hey_ getting her attention. Both figures halted mere feet from each other in front of a shadowed and secluded alley, and Ellie bit her lip as the girl turned towards her.

Her eyes had a hollow, defeated glow despite the soft and angled lines of her face, and as she took in the sight of Ellie her posture morphed from one that accentuated the young curves of her body to an almost concave, self-conscious hunch. The tip of her chin dropped down, her full lips pressing tightly together into a dagger thin compression of restrain, every part of her face save her eyes slowly angling towards the ground like a scolded dog. Deep bags of exhaustion lined underneath brilliant blue irises and a suffocating air of degradation swirled around her, the girl's skin and clothes reeking of dirt, sweat and crude perfume. Her fingers wrung together in tight coils, and every trace of confidence left her voice as she addressed Ellie.

"Yeah?" A great weariness infused the single word, and Ellie fidgeted, moving a hand to adjust her ponytail, seeing the girl flinch back ever so slightly as she saw the hand quickly rise. Ellie had hoped her voice would sound more benevolent. Maybe this girl could explain the insanity that seemed to take hold of everyone here. Instead her words were awkward and almost accusatory, knifing into her new acquaintance.

"I gave food to a brother and a sister earlier. They tried to kill each other over it."

The girl's eyes darted to the concrete before rising once again to meet Ellie's, her tone quiet and devoid of any hint of surprise as she tugged at her shirt, suddenly compelled to cover up in front of this odd stranger.

"Oh."

Ellie found the girl's embarrassment infectious, and took a step back, one hand rummaging through her backpack as the other was shoved into a worn pants pocket.

"Yeah. Please don't make me regret this."

Another chunk of food was presented, and it was Ellie's turn to look down at the ground, her breath locked in her lungs, her body tensed and her mind expecting the act of charity to be perverted in some way. It came as no surprise when she felt the girl crash into her, the weight of her body bowling them deeper into the alley and out of view of the rest of her group. What did surprise Ellie was the hot drip of tears she felt soaking into the crook of her neck, or the shuddering sobs that wracked the girl's equally small frame. She turned to dead weight in Ellie's arms, and the two of them sank down to into the nook of a sheltered stoop, bottles and cans skittering across the concrete as clumsy limbs spread out. Ellie's mind went blank as she feverishly thought about how to handle this oddly terrifying situation. She awkwardly patted the girls back, feeling her shoulders judder and shake with each sob. The girl lifted her head from the crook of Ellie's neck, and began to speak, the words slipping and rushing out her mouth, eager to finally have someone to confess to. Each hand seemed to worm their way across Ellie's shoulders, the fingers scratching into the fabric of her jacket, clinging to her desperately.

"They make me do it. I don't want to be like this…be treated like this…touched like… _that._ I don't even like-"

It was a plea of innocence, and a desperate accusation, but Ellie quickly cut off the remainder of her sentence, the stubbornness that had gotten her so far in life welling up, the young survivor hoping it would somehow soak into the shuddering creature in her arms.

"So why not stop then, why not run away, say fuck it all and fuck all of them, and take a chance on being free?"

The girl shrugged in her light embrace, her blond hair gently tickling the skin of Ellie's hands as they continued to wrap around the abused girl. Her answer was so matter-of-fact that it stung like a smack to the face.

"Because I'm afraid."

Normally Ellie prided herself on taking at least half a second to think before she spoke, even if that didn't necessarily change the content of what she was planning to say. But some dumb fucking part of her brain must have short-circuited then and there from the absurdity of the situation, because she found herself talking before she knew what she was doing.

"Hi afraid, I'm Ellie."

A sob hitched in the girl's throat, and she slightly pulled away from Ellie, regarding this strange new girl through teary eyelashes. Ellie screwed her eyes shut, whishing right then and there that the ground would swallow her up and away from the situation and her horrible joke, before a quiet chuckle reached her ears, and she opened one eye to see the girl pawing away tears as she sat up, a weak smile somehow gracing her features as she gave a final sniffle.

"That was awful." The words where whispered, a hint of wonder entering her voice as she repeated the joke over and over in her head. A pathetic cough shook her frame as she settled down opposite of Ellie, the new girl crossing her legs and tracing a finger along a winding crack in the concrete as she seemed to fully comprehend her breakdown. Before she could start apologizing Ellie spoke first, pointing a finger at herself, gesturing it around her eyes before pointing at the girl.

"Been there, done that. I usually end up looking like way more of a mess. Don't sweat it. Really."

The girls mouth opened, a stubborn plea bubbling up despite Ellie's reassurance. With a light smack the girl found Ellie's hand covering her mouth, the fingers gently but firmly forcing her jaw closed. The chunk of bread was quickly pressed into one of the other girl's hands. Azure eyes widened in surprise as Ellie scolded her.

"Don't. Don't fucking say you're sorry."

With a slight pop the hand was pulled away and the girl sat stunned, one hand half open in the air, the other clutching the food to her chest.

"I-"

A finger was raised in the air, a mock glare of threat lighting up Ellie's eyes. Once more the girl's mouth shut, before she rolled her eyes and tried again.

"No, I'm-"

This time the finger was jabbed in the girl's direction, and both sets of eyes locked on each other. The staring contest dragged on before the blond girl relented and blinked, giving another quiet laugh as she wiped her nose on the shoulder of her thin shirt. Little by little she began to pick at the food Ellie had given her. As the meal dwindled she spoke, the food quickly disappearing into an achingly empty stomach. The single chunk of bread made her feel fuller than she had in months, and a blissful relaxation spread through her body. Slowly Ellie's finger dropped, and she reclined against the stoop, crossing her arms defiantly.

"I was trying to say they call me Kat."

Most people never picked up on or never seemed to care about the slight variation of her introduction, but Ellie's eyes narrowed, her mind silently working as she studied the girl. To "Kat's" surprise Ellie asked the one question she had silently been hoping for.

"Is that even your real name?"

Blond hair seemed to swirl around as she shook her head, her voice containing an ounce of dark humor.

"Not even close."

Ellie allowed several moments to pass before she shrugged, tossing her hands up in the process.

"Well what is it then?"

The girl looked down at her feet, slowly drawing her legs up to her chest, pressing against the red bricks behind her.

"I don't know the last time someone's asked me that. It's Amelia."

Ellie unconsciously tugged at the arm of her jacket, felling the fabric slip across her scar. A puzzled gleam seemed to swirl about her pupils, and she leaned in, cocking her head.

"So why the fuck do they call you Kat then?"

Amelia gave an embarrassed laugh, combing her hair with small fingers before absent mindedly brushing the crumbs off her exposed legs.

"It's better for business, so they say." She curled her fingers into the air, the pitch of her voice rising in mockery. " _Sexy - enticing_."

They began to talk, each one slowly sharing a slice of their life, details wringing out from words like water from a cloth. Stories were swapped, each one silently picking up on the fact that the other was leaving out huge chunks, but both far to understanding to call the other out. Time seemed to slip away, and as the conversation was paused Ellie felt her mind curl around a thought, once again feeling her lips moving and words escaping her mouth before she could stop herself.

"I don't know why they would call you Kat. Amelia's already a sexy name."

Both of the girl's mouths closed with a snap of teeth, equal shades of red burnishing across their cheeks. A shout echoed out, cutting off any potential reply, and the pair of girls shifted their gaze, each set of eyes taking in two large figures at the end of the alley. The blond girl gave a deep sigh, slowly rising to her feet.

"Those are my…well…look, I've got to go."

She turned around and began to walk away, before a hand curled around her shoulder, spinning her around to face Ellie once more. Without a word of explanation Ellie pressed something else into her hand, curling her fingers around her final act of charity before stepping back. Amelia looked down, a mixture of puzzlement and fear sliding across her eyes as she quietly regarded the small pistol Ellie had given her, eventually raising her gaze to take in Ellie's fierce, emerald stare. Blond hair cascaded once more as she shook her head, turning the weapon over in her palm.

"Why?"

Ellie shrugged and crossed her arms, a deep frown creating furrows in the skin of her cheeks.

"If you want something you fucking fight for it."

The men at the edge of the alley began to slowly pace back and forth, waiting with thinly veiled menace, and Amelia took several backwards steps towards them, her eyes switching between one trembling, empty hand and one that clutched the pistol. With a shift of her gaze the shining blue eyes rested on the weapon, and she halted her backpedal, swaying in the middle of the alley, studying every detail and intricacy of the gun. One of the shadowed figures shouted at her again, and the girl cast her eyes over her shoulder, her demeanor changing and stiffening ever so slightly, before taking a long stride back to Ellie, pressing her gently against the brick wall and planting her lips against her cheek. The girl's kiss was clumsy, timid movements tracing her lips across freckled skin, dragging trembling lips to just graze against Ellie's. And just like that Amelia pulled slightly back, uncurling fingers that had wrapped around Ellie's bitten wrist, her tender grip leaving a lingering buzz deep in the scarred flesh, the blond-haired girl's words coming out flustered and her cheeks burning an even deeper shade of red.

"Sorry."

Ellie opened and closed her mouth several times, barely processing what had happened. The girl watched her, shoulders slightly drooping and the scolded look returning to her features before Ellie gave a breathless chuckle.

"For what?"

Tears welled up in the eyes of the strange girl once more, and she gave a final smile, resignation and serenity licking at the corners of her irises as she began to walk backwards once again, her voice just low enough for Ellie, and only Ellie, to hear.

"I'm not afraid anymore."

The gun was hidden in the folds of her clothes, and she turned around to face the men as she continued walking, each man flanking her as they rounded the corner and out of Ellie's view. She remained against the cold wall for a few moments longer, fingertips gently prodding the area the girl's lips had been. Lazy steps carried her out of the alley, and she could just see the hulking form of one of the men disappear around another corner as she returned to the Fireflies' entrance. The doors opened, and a guard waved her in, the realization only now occurring to Ellie that both Harmless and Caleb had disappeared, presumably already inside. She'd have to borrow a gun from one of them.

Ellie began to jog up the steps, stopping short when she heard several gunshots ring out from somewhere nearby. Birds scattered from barren tree branches at the sharp cracks, and she allowed a private smile to spread across her features as she recognized the sound of her old pistol.


End file.
